Sacrificial Son
by film princess
Summary: Dean finds himself caught in the clutches of a water succubus after a heated debate with his father concerning Sam's decision to leave the family business. Will John realize what's happening in time to save him? Hurt!Dean, Worried!John/Sam/Bobby
1. Here Goes Nothing

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Dean was in his element, happily cruising along in the Impala and rocking out to a little Led Zep. His father didn't let him drive often, but Dean had a feeling he would be getting the Impala for his eighteenth birthday present. The car was home for him, and with the bass beat loud enough to rattle the windows and with his little brother riding shotgun, Dean let the recent events from Truman High School fade away.

What did that chick know anyway? Dean was a hero. He wouldn't trade his lifestyle for the world. He sure as hell didn't need Amanda's pity.

The Winchester boys were currently following behind John's new truck. They were heading out of Fairfax, Indiana, _finally_, and as far as Dean was concerned, the further they went the better. The plan was to meet up with Bobby a few states over so they could team up on the next hunt.

It was going to be Sam's first full experience hunting. He had attended a few gigs before, but for the most part, all he had done was train and observe. This latest hunt was Sam's chance to prove himself a competent hunter like his father and big brother. The only problem was Sam didn't want to hunt.

The elder Winchester son glanced over at his little brother who was staring out the passenger side window, apparently lost in thought. Dean turned the volume on the radio down enough to be heard over it.

"Hey, Sammy?" Sam didn't acknowledge him, so Dean tried again. "… Sam? … Earth to Super Geek…? DUDE!"

"Huh?" Sam was startled out of his reverie and shot his brother a confused look.

"Welcome back, Cadet. What, were you visiting the set of _Lost in Space_ or somethin'?"

"Just thinkin'."

"'Bout what?"

"Stuff." Sam turned back to his window.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "Funny, when I say shit like that I get your patented bitch face. Care to elaborate?"

"Not really," Sam sighed.

Dean stared at the back of his brother's head for a few seconds before deciding he wasn't going to let it go that easily. Sam was clearly hiding something, and he wanted to know what it was. Plus, they had a long ride ahead of them and Dean got bored pretty quickly. Harassing Sam was one of the perks.

"Come on, Sammy. What is it? You worried about the hunt tomorrow?"

"No. Haven't really thought about it actually."

"Then what? You can't seriously be missin' that shithole of a school after what happened to you there."

"It wasn't all that bad."

"Dude, what kind of ganja are you smokin'?"

"The teachers were nice."

"Nice _lookin' _maybe..."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you something in secret?"

"Of course, man."

"I don't know if I want to be a hunter."

"… This week?"

"At all."

"What the hell else would you be?"

"I dunno… Maybe a lawyer?"

Dean gave him an incredulous look. "You're serious?"

"Yeah, I am. I think I want to go to college. I don't want to be part of the family business."

Dean shut the radio off completely. "Where's this comin' from, Sammy? It never bothered you before."

"My eyes are open now, Dean. There's a lot more to life than vendettas and revenge."

"Oh, dad is gonna _love _this..."

"You can't tell him, Dean!" Sam swung back around frantically, afraid he had made a serious mistake in confiding in his brother. But he should have known better than to accuse Dean of going behind his back.

"Do I _look_ suicidal to you? We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? Don't worry, I'll handle dad if you're dead set on this."

"Really?"

"Course, little man. That's what awesome big brothers are for. Plus this situation needs to be handled delicately or it's gonna get fugly fast."

Sam slumped back against his seat, dejectedly. "Yeah, I _know_."

Dean sighed. "It's not that he doesn't care, Sammy. He _does_. But his priority is keepin' us safe. He's not gonna like the idea of you wantin' to strike out on your own, unprotected."

"Well it's gonna happen, whether he likes it or not."

Silence fell over the car as both boys let their minds wander. Dean broke the silence first.

"So how come you never told me you didn't want to hunt before?"

"I… I guess I never considered there were other options before. It's always been _whatever dad says, goes_. I don't want to be a freak anymore, Dean. I just want to be normal."

"I've got news for ya, Sammy. You've always been a freak. But you know what? I'm right there with ya. Always have been, and always will be."

Sam smiled, feeling the relief from Dean's reassurance. "Yeah, I know you are. Thanks, Dean."

"Chick flick moment over now? Good." He turned the radio back on and boosted the volume again, pretending to be focused on the song when he was actually lost in his own thoughts. _How the hell am I gonna break this to dad? _

With multiple arguments and scenarios flooding through Dean's head, the drive took a surprisingly short time. He and Sam waited in the car while their father checked them in and then they both drove around the building and parked in front of their home for the week.

Bobby was scheduled to arrive within the next hour or so and he'd probably rent out the room next door if it was available. Until then, Dean had a lot of processing and planning to do.

"Let's go, boys. Grab the bags and bring 'em in," John instructed as he grabbed his own duffle from the back of his truck and made his way to their door.

The boys automatically obeyed, Dean practically marching into the room and Sam silently sulking.

Two beds. That meant dad got one and the boys would be sharing again, not that that was anything new. Still, Dean chose the side closest to the door and dropped his bag to the floor.

"Dean, keys," John commanded, hand outstretched.

Dean reluctantly tossed the Impala's keys to his father who pocketed them. It was fun to pretend for a while that the car was his, even if it didn't last. _Someday, baby…_

"Alright. Let's go over the plan again till Bobby gets here."

The three Winchesters gathered around the small kitchen table as John outlined the hunt with every possible situation covered. He was in the process of quizzing Sam on the exit strategy when they heard the unmistakable roar or Bobby's truck as he pulled into the spot next to John's.

"Dean, get the door, bud."

"Yes, sir."

Ever the cautious hunter, Dean waited until Bobby was standing directly in front of the door so he could see him through the peephole and had him knock before swinging the door open to allow the family friend entry.

"Howdy, boys. Did I miss anythin' important?"

John stood up, ready to help the hunter with his bags if necessary. "Just goin' over the game plan. You made good time, Bobby."

"Sometimes I'm just good like that. What's for eatin' around here? I didn't stop for dinner."

At the mention of food, the Winchesters realized they hadn't eaten in hours either.

"There was a grocery store just down the street. I'm sure we could find somethin' to throw together there," John supplied.

"Sounds fair. You boys look busy. I'll make the run," Bobby offered and turned to head back out.

Dean seized the opportunity. "Hey, Sammy, you could use a break, man. Why don't you help the old guy out? He might hurt his back or somethin' carryin' the milk."

It took Sam a moment judging by the confused expression he shot Dean, but then it clicked. His brother wanted some alone time with their father to have "the discussion."

"Watch it, boy," Bobby growled, bemusedly. "Is it alright if I steal the little one for a bit, John?"

Dean didn't know how the man did it, but Bobby always seemed to catch onto their plans even though they never said a word to him about it. He obviously wouldn't need Sam's help for a handful of groceries, but he knew there was something more to it than an extra set of hands. Good ole Bobby…

"Yeah, I suppose it's time we took a break. Dean and I will get the weapons ready for tomorrow night. Don't get anythin' that needs to be baked though. I don't trust this oven."

"No worries, dad. We don't trust you _near _the oven," Dean smirked.

"Wise ass…"

"And where do you suppose he got that from, John?" Bobby added and Dean smiled proudly.

"Must have been his mother."

"Nah, he got his looks from his momma, and thank heaven for that, boy."

"Wait, I'm confused. Are you sayin' I look like a chick, Bobby?"

"You _are_ a bit of a pretty boy, Dean," Sam chimed in with an evil grin.

"Oh you are so dead, little brother…" Dean warned, taking a few steps towards him.

Sam slid quickly behind Bobby, using the man as a shield.

"Don't go draggin' me into your little spat. Head out to the truck, Sam. Let's hit the road before it gets dark."

John shook his head in amusement at the boys' antics. As much as he pretended to be a hard-ass who didn't have time for such trivial things like jokes, he really did miss their playful jousting these days.

Sam quickly slid out the door and made his way to Bobby's vehicle. Bobby turned to the remaining Winchesters.

"You two chuckle-heads better behave yourselves, ya hear? We'll be back soon."

He turned and walked out to catch up with Sam.

John and Dean turned to each other as the door closed, leaving them behind.

Dean let out a soft sigh. _Here goes nothin'…_

TBC

Finally! A full chapter after all these months! It feels good to be back lol. I'll update as often as I can, but reviews will help me move faster… * shameful pleading *


	2. The Ugly Truth

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

"You want to tell me what's goin' on, Sam?" Bobby inquired as they drove down the street towards the grocery store.

"What do you mean?" _Always act innocent when you've got something to hide…_

"Look, son, I'm many things, but a fool ain't one of 'em. I know when I'm bein' dragged into a plot and I'd like to know who the mastermind is before I become an accessory to World War III."

Sam shrugged. "Dean just wanted to talk to dad alone is all."

"Uh huh…"

Sam ignored the skepticism and wondered if he was doing the right thing leaving Dean alone to deal with their father when it was _Sam's_ problem that was being addressed.

He shifted in his seat, trying to ignore the queasy feeling that was settling in his stomach.

**********

"Grab the weapons bag and bring it to the table, Dean. We should get started."

"Yes, sir." Dean moved quickly, getting everything set up for the cleaning.

As they set to work, Dean's eyes kept drifting up to glance at his father, wondering how and when to breach the taboo subject. The fourth time this happened, John couldn't take it anymore and he spoke up.

"Somethin' on your mind, son?"

"No! I mean, well… Yeah, I guess."

"Well which one is it?"

"Yes. I have to talk to you about somethin', dad, but I know you're not gonna like it."

John sighed, putting down the shotgun he was currently cleaning and giving his full attention to his eldest. "One of _those _conversations, huh? Well, let's have it then."

"It's about Sammy…"

"Ah. Let me guess, you think he's still too young to hunt?"

"Uh, that too, but that's not what I…"

"Come on, Dean. You were hunting at the age of ten for cryin' out loud!"

"That was different though! I _had_ to learn to hunt so I could protect him while you were out. I thought we'd agreed that we'd keep Sammy in the dark for as long as possible."

"We did, but his curiosity got the better of him as it always does and he found the diary. Nothin' we can do about that now."

"So we couldn't shield him forever, I know that. But that doesn't mean he has to start huntin' so soon. Let him be a kid for as long as he can."

"Where's this comin' from, dude? We've been plannin' this hunt for weeks now. Why didn't you say somethin' before?"

"Cause I thought he might've been ready, but now…"

"Did he say somethin' to you?"

"In a matter of speakin'."

"Well spit it out then! What? He's afraid he hasn't been trained enough? He doesn't want to tackle a spirit for his first hunt? It's the easiest case we've got, Dean. If he can't handle a simple salt and burn…"

"Hedoesntwannahunt," Dean forced out then held his breath, unsure if he wanted his father to understand his jumbled words or not.

John raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"He… He doesn't want to hunt, dad."

"What, this week?"

Dean sighed. "No. Not ever."

"He'll grow out of it." John picked his shotgun back up again and checked to make sure the barrels were clear.

"I don't think he will actually. He wants to stay in school. Maybe become a lawyer."

"A lawyer?!" John chuckled. "Oh, that's just rich."

An awkward silence fell over the room as John switched to the next gun and Dean fumbled around for something else to say.

"Don't make him hunt, dad," he practically whispered, just a half a step away from pleading.

John lowered the gun to the table again. "Look, Dean, it's not my mission in life to destroy your childhoods, okay? I wish to hell you could _both _live normal lives, go to college, meet nice girls, have 2.5 kids… But we don't get a choice, kiddo. The second we turn our backs on the supernatural, that's when it'll attack and if we're not prepared, it'll win. I won't let that happen, understand?"

"Maybe it's not too late for him."

"It's too late for all of us. End of story. Finish with that knife. Bobby'll need the table when he gets back with the food."

"Yes, sir."

Dean knew he should just let it drop. He had lost. That was that. But he couldn't live with that. Not when it was his brother that he was failing. He had to try again.

"If we keep stranglin' him, he's just gonna leave. Sammy's always had a mind of his own."

John took a steadying breath, trying to keep his anger under control. It wasn't like Dean to keep prodding the sleeping dragon.

"So… What, Dean? You want me to let him go? Send him off into the world where I can't keep an eye on him? Can't make sure he's safe?"

"I don't want him to go either, dad! I would do _anything_ to make him stay! But that's not what _he _wants and I'd rather see him happy than watch his soul get crushed day after day until he's no more than a mindless hunter!"

"Damn it, Dean! That's enough!" John stood abruptly from the table, slamming his fists on it as he rose. "Sam's gonna learn how to hunt just like the rest of us, whether he likes it or not!"

Dean stood as well to match his father. "We're going to lose him that way! Can't you understand that?! He's got a mind of his own and he'll do whatever it takes to become his own man. Even if that means shuttin' us out completely!"

"If I have to chain that kid to a toilet every day for the rest of his life to keep him here and safe, then that's what I'm gonna do!"

Dean made his way around the table until he was only a few feet from his father. "He'll hate you for it till the day he dies. Is that really what you want?!"

"I don't give a shit!" John whirled angrily, grabbing his son by the shoulders and slamming him into the nearest wall. "I am in charge of this family, and I will do whatever is necessary to protect the two of you, regardless if you understand my reasoning or not!"

Dean was shell-shocked as his back slammed into the wall and his father's strong hands tightened like vice grips on his shoulders. The wind was knocked out of him instantly, but he wasn't sure if it was the collision or his father's towering rage that kept him dumbfounded.

He latched his hands onto his father's wrists, trying to break their painful hold and did his best to melt into the wall to put as much distance between himself and John as he could.

"You and your brother will do _exactly_ what I ask _when_ I ask it and _without_ questioning my authority, you got that?! I've been doin' this since you were four freakin' years old, Dean! I _know _what we're up against and it sure as hell ain't pretty! Every goddamn evil thing out there knows about us Winchesters, and the majority of them want to rip us apart piece by goddamn piece just so they can gloat about gettin' the best of us, but I'm not gonna let that goddamn happen!"

With a half-hearted shove, he pushed away from his son, releasing him, and turned his back on him breathing heavily and trying to get himself back under control before he did something he'd regret.

Dean's numb hands scrabbled slowly against the wall behind him, looking for purchase to keep himself on his feet. He finally understood why his father did what he did. Why he was always in military mode, treating his boys like soldiers and toughening them up for war. His heart was in the right place, and like every father on the planet, his greatest fear was losing his children.

He slowly pushed away from the wall, taking a few careful steps towards his father, trying to figure out what to say now.

John had his left thumb and index finger pressed tightly against his eyes and his right hand rested on his hip as he tried to gain his control back. How could he have let his anger get the better of him so quickly? How could he have taken it out on Dean when the boy was only trying to help? It was the upcoming hunt that had his nerves in a bind; knowing that both his boys would be at real risk for the first time. Risk that he was putting them in himself…

"D-dad…?" Dean squeaked out.

Thinking Dean was still up against the wall where he had left him, John swung around, arms out in a _do you really want to push me right now? _gesture, and to his horror, his left hand met the side of Dean's face with a harsh slap.

Dean stumbled backwards into the wall again, left hand pressed against his throbbing cheek in fear.

"Dean?! Shit, Dean… I, I didn't realize…" John took two steps towards Dean but froze at the look of pure betrayal in his boy's eyes.

"Don't. Just, don't." Dean slid against the wall until he reached the front door, then threw it open and raced out into the brisk night.

"Dean!"

**********

"Sam, grab us a head o' lettuce, will ya?" Bobby asked as he glanced in the cart, mentally preparing the meal in his head so he didn't forget anything.

Sam did as he was told, but paused before adding it to the cart.

"Bobby, we've gotta go back."

"What're you on about, Sam?" Concern lined the kind man's words.

"Just a feeling, but I'm worried about Dean."

"Dean's with your daddy. I'm sure he's fine."

"No, this isn't right. This is _my _fight, not Dean's. We have to go back."

"Talk to me, son. What's goin' on here?"

"Dean's gonna tell dad that I don't want to be a hunter."

"… Forget the cart. Get in the truck. We're leavin'. Now."

TBC

Thank you guys so much for all the reviews! You inspired me to sit down and start writing a second chapter straight away, so here you go! I'm by no means a fan of John being abusive, but I needed an excuse for Dean to head down to the shore on his own. And at least I made it an accident, right? Haha Please review again and let me know I'm still heading in the right direction! As always, any suggestions are always welcomed as well. The water succubus (aka Rusalka) will be making her first appearance in the next chapter, and it's going to get a bit steamy for Dean!


	3. Somethin' Ain't Right

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Dean strode angrily down towards the small beach area behind the motel, filled with enough frustration to make him want to strike out at something. His cheek was still throbbing to the rapid beat of his heart, but it hurt more to know that it was caused by his father; his idol. Worse than that, he had failed his little brother in the worst way. There was no chance their father would let Sam go off and do his own thing now.

He knew he needed to calm down. He had been taught at a very young age that it was dangerous to let your emotions get the better of you. He had to keep himself in check or he would be more susceptible to both normal and paranormal attacks. Since he was unarmed and his cell phone was back at the motel, he couldn't afford to run into either form.

When he knew he was far enough away from the motel that John wouldn't follow him, Dean spun around, trying to figure out what he was going to do now. He _wanted _to find the nearest bar and pick a fight with the local drunk just to vent, but he knew he couldn't worry Sammy like that. Without having any way of being reached, he had to stay close to the motel.

He debated on sitting in the sand for a while and listening to the gentle waves rolling up and down the shore just feet away, but he was still too riled up to sit. He began pacing the abandoned beach, reciting lyrics to his favorite classic rock songs as he went. It gave him something else to focus on and helped him down from his adrenaline high.

After about three songs, the rhythmic waves and peaceful surroundings calmed him. He sighed deeply, then finally gave in and sat down with his back against a large rock. He absently massaged his cheek before wrapping his arms around his knees.

He hadn't realized it before, but the night was far from warm. A strong breeze made him shiver and pull his limbs in tighter to his body to conserve body heat. He wished he had thought to grab his jacket on the way out the door. It was only about forty degrees now that the sun had set, and his thin white t-shirt was doing little to protect him from the chill.

The stubborn Winchester streak kept him from doubling back for shelter though. He needed to be alone right now.

**********

Bobby pulled his cell phone from his pocket and pressed the speed dial button for John Winchester, shooting Sam a side-ways look of unease.

Sam waited with bated breath in the passenger seat.

The phone seemed to ring endlessly before going to voicemail.

He slammed the phone shut and stepped on the gas a bit harder.

**********

Dean allowed his eyes to drift shut and he let his mind go blank, focusing on nothing but the sounds around him and controlling his ragged breathing. That's when he realized there was a soft voice floating on the wind.

It was the most relaxing voice he had ever heard. It reminded him a lot of his mother when she used to sing him to sleep at night. He opened his eyes and sat up straighter, glancing around to catch a glimpse of this musical goddess.

He gazed up and down the shore until his eyes landed on a beautiful brunette with deep chocolate eyes and pale skin. She seemed to be floating along the water's edge. So much so, that Dean found himself wondering if she was a spirit or even a mirage.

The flowing and ebbing waves enveloped her bare feet before pulling back as though they had committed a horrible sin by daring to touch her. She glanced out at the stars and crescent moon reflecting in the obsidian surface before turning and gazing deeply into Dean's eyes from across the sand. He swallowed hard, forgetting how to breathe.

She beckoned for him to join her at the edge, her voice still lulling him into complete submission.

He stood slowly, no longer feeling the bite of the cold; the fight from earlier long forgotten.

She waited patiently for him to make his way over the sand to meet her. He stopped a few feet away, his hunter instincts lying just beneath the surface. He could feel them nagging at him, telling him to flee in the other direction or yell for backup, but he pushed the feelings back down. There was no way he was going to run away from the prettiest woman he had ever seen just because she had an instant effect on him. In fact, he was pretty sure it was love at first sight.

This woman, clad in a thin, form-fitting knee-length black dress, was not a one-night-stand kind of girl. She was the kind of girl you brought home, married, and lived the rest of your life with. She was everything he wanted and could never have.

His eyes dropped to the sand as soon as this realization hit him. What had he been thinking? Happily ever after was for _normal_ people, not hunters.

He jumped when a perfectly manicured, yet ice cold, hand reached out and gently lifted his chin.

"Don't be sad, handsome," she said softly, just loud enough to be heard over the waves. She moved closer until she was able to whisper in his ear. "You can have me if you want."

"Wh-what…?" Dean stumbled back a step, looking like an unsuspecting virgin on prom night. _Wow, real smooth, dude…_

**********

Sam came racing through the motel door, Bobby right on his heals, to find John sitting at the kitchen table alone with his head buried in his hands.

"…Dad?"

John didn't even twitch.

"John!" Bobby barked, making the other man lift his head in order to scowl back. "Where's Dean?"

"He left," John mumbled, void of all emotion.

"He _what_?" Bobby could already tell he wasn't going to like this one bit.

"He's gone, okay?! Took off 'bout half an hour ago."

"Damn it, John… What the hell did you do?!"

**********

"There is no one else here, baby. Just you and me underneath the stars. The night is ours and ours alone." She slowly traced her fingertips across his cheeks, dancing along the scattered freckles that made him look years younger than he was.

"I… I…" Dean swallowed hard again. What the hell was his problem?! He had been a lady's man since the age of eleven. For some reason, all his confidence had gone out the window the second he heard her melodious voice. Something about that was sending up red flags in his head but he couldn't seem to get them into a coherent thought.

"Shh… You don't have to say anything. Just let your hands do the talking…" She reached out and gently grasped his right wrist, pulling him closer towards her. She smiled warmly and chuckled at his wide-eyed, lost little boy face. "Don't be afraid, you're safe with me."

Admittedly, he put up very little resistance. She placed his hand on her waist, drawing him in even closer, and placed her own hand against his heart which was frantically beating out of his chest. Once again, he felt the piercing cold of her skin and he shuddered. It felt like she was as cold as the water must be.

It helped shake him a bit out of his stupor. He glanced down at her meager wardrobe and concern took over for his libido. "You must be freezin' out here! I'd've offered you my jacket if I had thought to…"

A finger to his lips stopped him mid-sentence. He hissed in pain when a sharp burning sensation suddenly tore through his chest, emanating from her other hand. "No more talking, hunter. It's time to go."

**********

"I didn't mean to, alright? It was an accident!" John defended after his brief explanation of what took place earlier that night. He started wondering if he was going to have to _physically_ defend himself once he saw the look of pure anger on Bobby's face.

"Do you have _any_ idea what you've done?! You mean _everythin'_ to that boy! He looks up to you for reasons I've yet to understand, and you go and do _this_?!"

John stood furiously. "I said it was a goddamn accident, okay?! I didn't realize he was that close!"

"DAD!" Sam shouted over the two bickering men, trying to get their attention. He would deal with his father later, but right now his only concern was Dean. "Any idea where he went?"

"No clue. But he made it pretty damn evident he didn't want me to follow."

"Well _that's_ a given... Was he armed? Do you think he'd hit up a bar or pick a fight somewhere? Did he have his cell on him?" Bobby grilled.

"I. Don't. _Know_! Okay?!"

"No, it damn well _isn't_ okay, John!"

"He doesn't have his cell," Sam stated quietly, drawing the attention of the squabbling men again.

"How do you know?" John questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Cause this boy actually gives a damn about his brother and happens to know him pretty damn well, that's why!" Bobby responded for the youngest Winchester.

"I _know_ cause his jacket is over there and he had his cell in the top left pocket. He can be hot-headed sometimes, but he isn't stupid, Bobby. He would have realized he didn't have his cell, so he would've stayed close, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do."

"Alright, John, keep your ass right where it is. I ain't finished with you yet. Sam and I are gonna try to track him down. You best be workin' out an apology for when we get back cause if you've managed to screw your eldest son up more than he already was, I'm gonna blow your head off, bring ya back to life, and do it again. Let's go, Sam."

"Yes, sir." Sam refused to make eye contact with his father as he made his way back towards the door. _Please let Dean be okay…_

**********

"No more talking, hunter. It's time to go."

Dean felt like he had been slapped again. "How…? Who…? _What_ are you?!" He tried to pull away from her, but he couldn't get his body to respond. "What the hell did you do to me?!"

He was caught between anger and fear, but tried to keep the fear hidden from her. Now that she had stopped singing, his mind was starting to clear.

She slid one icy hand up underneath his t-shirt, smoothing it over his defined abs as she leaned in towards his ear again, whispering, "I'm your new mate, lover. Mmm… You're so warm…" She tugged his earlobe lightly with her teeth and he grimaced, unable to push her away or stop her wandering hand.

"Sorry, lady, suddenly not so interested. Paralysis is a bit of a turn off for me…"

"Don't worry, I can be quite… persuasive." She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down for a rough kiss.

Dean felt the muscles in his stomach tighten, wondering if it was in revulsion or uncontrollable lust. After about a minute, she pulled back and left Dean panting for breath.

"I think your little charm is startin' to wear off on me. You're no where _near _as hot as you were before," he tried to bait her. It was an unfortunate defense mechanism of his; piss of the baddie and try to survive the consequences.

"I prefer to watch you squirm. Besides, it's not like you're goin' anywhere…"

"What do ya say we just call it a night and go our separate ways?"

The right side of her mouth curved up in a deadly smirk. "Just listen to my voice, hunter. Listen, and give in to me."

**********

When Sam and Bobby reached the top of the beach, it didn't take long to spot the two other occupants there, though they were so close they could have easily passed as one.

Bobby flung out a hand, catching Sam gently in the chest and halting his progress towards the water.

"Looks like he's doin' just fine," Sam smirked, relieved at having found his brother alive and well. He quirked an eyebrow at Bobby when the older man started slowly moving the two of them back towards the motel.

"Somethin' ain't right… Normally Dean'd be all over a girl like that. Looks like he's actually tryin' to pull away…"

"Dean, turn down a girl? I highly doubt it…"

Her captivating voice reached their ears and while Sam was starting to lean forward with a goofy smile on his face, Bobby put it all together.

"That's no girl," he growled. He grasped Sam's shoulder, giving him a shake to break him from his trance. "Go get your dad, Sam. Tell him Dean's got himself tangled up with a Rusalka."

Sam shook his head, trying to clear the ringing in his ears. "A what?"

"A water succubus! Go! Now!"

Sam turned and bolted back towards the motel room. Bobby kept his eyes glued to Dean and the succubus. He wanted to shout out and warn the boy or at least distract the creature long enough for John to show up with the appropriate weapons, but he knew if she felt threatened, her first move would be to drag Dean straight into the water and there was little chance of her giving him back.

_If Dean gets hurt because of your pig-headedness, John, there's no place on Earth you'll be able to hide from my wrath…_

TBC

Please review! This was my first time writing something with a romantic air to it. Did it come out okay? Did she come across as sexy or creepy as hell? I'd love to hear your opinions! Plenty of action to come! Oh, and small warning… It gets a bit steamy as well!


	4. Sarina

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

John was pacing the small room, feeling caged, when Sam came barreling back in.

"Did you find him?"

"Yeah, but he's in trouble. A Rust-salty or somethin'…"

"A _what_?"

"A water succubus!"

"A Rusalka?!"

"Yeah! That was it!"

"Shit…"

John dove for the weapons bag he and Dean had been working on, what seemed like ages ago now, and pulled out a shotgun with special rounds filled with a combination of dead man's blood, salt, and sawdust. He also pulled out a small firearm loaded with silver bullets. They weren't enough to kill a succubus, but they could pack a punch if handled correctly. He would need these if she had control over Dean already.

"Lead the way, Sam."

Sam grabbed his brother's gun and jacket on the way out.

**********

When he and Sam reached Bobby's position and he saw what was going on with his own eyes, he felt like throwing up. The creature's tongue was down his boy's throat, no doubt suffocating him.

"Hey! Get your damn hands offa my kid, Bitch!" John shouted without thinking. He couldn't see past the red haze.

"Nice goin', John…" Bobby grumbled, knowing the other man had just ruined their element of surprise. Bobby ripped the shotgun out of John's hands and started circling to the left, trying to get a clear shot as John raised his own gun.

"D-dad…!" Dean gasped out as he was whirled around and held captive to the succubus's chest with an arm around his throat. She was using him as a human shield.

"Oh, I don't think so, Johnny Boy. He just has too many good qualities to pass up." She stroked a loving hand through Dean's spiky hair just to piss John off. Then she grabbed a handful of it and pulled the boy's head back at a painful angle.

Bobby and Sam shot John confused looked. "Friend o' yours?" Bobby retorted.

John ignored the others, focusing solely on the creature in front of him. "It's been a while, Sarina. Aren't you supposed to be dead, Sweetheart?"

"It was just a scratch. And I'm sure your 'get well' card got lost in the mail…"

"Oh, I've got somethin' for ya right here. Don't you worry."

"Tisk, tisk, John. You must have figured out by _now_ those special little bullets don't work on a gal like me. Hell, it barely even stings."

"I don't make the same mistake twice, hun," John smirked, making the smile slip from her face long enough to show her slight hesitation.

John watched Sam circle to the right in his periphery. The boy had slipped Dean's jacket on for warmth and to free up his hands. The familiar scent of his big brother ingrained in the leather gave Sam the courage he needed to continue his slow advance.

"Don't get too close, Sammy," John warned, knowing the power this particular succubus possessed.

"By all means, _Sammy_, come on in. The water's fine! Who do you think has the better reflexes, John? You, or _me_?" She jerked Dean from side to side like a doll, showing that if John took a shot, he'd risk hitting his son instead.

Dean's adrenaline was helping him to break through the paralysis. Sure, he had been a bit nervous when he realized how much trouble he had gotten himself into, but now that everyone he loved was involved and in danger, he found more inner strength to master her affect on him. He wasn't just going to become her play toy without a fight. Not in front of his little brother.

The numbness in his chest was giving way to a burning sensation as he forced his muscles to move against their will. He fought through the pain, and managed to grab hold of the arm around his throat. Unfortunately, he was still too weak to pull free.

"So _now _you want to play, huh? You know, it's pretty hot that your family means so much to you that you were able to break through my charm. I must admit, that's never happened before."

She kissed his cheek, and slowly worked her way down his neck and to his shoulder, mouthing his quickly cooling skin. He shuddered against her, causing her to groan deeply.

She smiled gleefully before walking slowly backwards towards the water, dragging a weakly struggling Dean with her. "Time to go. Say goodbye to daddy, babe."

"Don't…" John warned, tightening his grip on the trigger and trying to find a big enough opening.

"Just shoot me, dad!" Dean shouted, knowing John could send a bullet straight through him and into the succubus. He'd rather take the bullet than be dragged into the deep by a sex-crazed mer-demon.

"Don't you dare, John," Bobby threatened, wishing he had a different gun since the shotgun blast would pepper Dean as well. The most he could do was look intimidating and try to draw the creature's attention long enough for John to get a shot in.

"Dad, please!" Dean begged as he felt the water rising above his ankles. He tried to pull her arm away from his throat again, but she just tightened her grasp, minimizing his oxygen intake.

"Let him go!" Sam screamed, holding out his free hand as though wishing he could just beam Dean safely back to the motel room.

"You know, your little brother is kinda cute too…" the succubus whispered in Dean's ear with a smirk.

"Don't even… think about… it," he growled as best he could with a restricted air supply.

"Oh, come on, handsome. A little ménage a trois?"

"What are you… French now? Ain't gonna… happen, sister."

"Can't blame a girl for trying."

The water was up to Dean's knees now and he was already shaking painfully. Damn, that water was _cold_! He certainly wasn't looking forward to being submerged in it. He managed to pull her arm away far enough that his speech wasn't so impeded.

"Can't we talk about this? I mean, a motel room would be… a lot more adequate for what… you've apparently got planned…"

"Baby, my water bed is just as comfortable. You'll see."

"Yeah, well… Don't be disappointed if you… don't get the reaction you're lookin' for. Ice cold water tends to have… a negative affect on the male body…"

"You'll do just fine, I'm sure. I've heard the rumors about you, _Dean_."

Dean's eyes shot to his father again. "Funny, I haven't heard… a damn thing about _you_ before."

"Your dad and I go back a few years. He told me all kinds of stories about his two strapping young lads before he realized what I was. But I've been hoping to get the pleasure of meeting you at some point. Looks like Lady Luck is on my side tonight."

"Lady Luck's a bitch, and so are you."

She ran her left hand across his inner thigh, slowly making her way up to her prize, tightly securing her right arm once again around his neck. "You really know how to turn a girl on, don't you, baby?"

"Get offa me," Dean growled through chattering teeth as they sank waist deep into the freezing water. He gasped and blushed profusely as she reached her mark with a dark chuckle.

_No! Not in front of my family… Please, not in front of them…_

"You know, I always wanted to get revenge on your daddy for trying to kill me ten years ago. I just never imagined it would be so much fun. You certainly grew up handsome."

"Ah, bite me…"

"Why Dean, I hadn't pegged you for the kinky type. Glad we're on the same page now." The hint of excitement in her voice mixed with the gleam in her eyes was enough to turn Dean's stomach. Perhaps that hadn't been the _best_ thing to say to a succubus…

John, Bobby, and Sam were desperately trying to ignore what she was doing to Dean. It was obvious she was trying to piss them off, and obvious she was enjoying it a bit too much. It was also pretty obvious that her evil plan was working.

All three of them were taking a step forward every time she dragged Dean back a step, but now they were at the water's edge themselves.

It was now or never if one of them was going to take a shot and try to get Dean released before it was too late.

_I'm sorry, son…_

John aimed at Dean's left shoulder, knowing it would cause minimal damage to him but be close to her heart as it penetrated straight through. He'd rather have to patch Dean up than bury him.

_Please forgive me._

Dean could see where his father was aiming and knew he was going to take the shot. He squeezed his eyes closed, waiting for the impact.

_**BANG**_!

Everyone in the vicinity jumped and Sarina screamed in rage and pain, turning furious eyes onto the youngest Winchester whose gun was still smoking.

John glanced around, wondering what had happened, knowing he hadn't actually pulled the trigger yet.

Dean's eyes flew open, surprised that he didn't feel the pain he had been expecting.

Bobby's mouth fell open in awe that Sam had had the guts to take the shot with his brother directly in front of the target. He had to give the kid a lot more credit. Whether Sam wanted to be a hunter or not, the boy had one hell of an aim.

Sam had hit her in the right side, but unfortunately, Dean's gun had been loaded with iron rounds from the last hunt; utterly useless for a succubus besides having the ability to genuinely piss her off.

"Why you little…!"

She had thankfully released Dean with her left hand to see how much damage the young nuisance had created, but her right arm tightened even more, practically lifting Dean off his feet by his neck. He gritted his teeth and his struggles redoubled, trying desperately to pull in oxygen through his crushed windpipe.

When he started bucking against her, she dug her long nails into Dean's left shoulder and hip, causing him to grunt in pain. "Get control of yourself, handsome, or we'll throw down right here and now."

Dean froze instantly and she eased up enough for him to gasp in a few desperate breaths.

"Let go of my brother, or the next one goes through your thick skull!" Sam threatened, raising his aim a bit higher.

She reacted exactly as he had planned; she maneuvered Dean in between herself and Sam, leaving her right side more exposed to John's aim in return.

The man didn't hesitate for her to realize the mistake she had made. He quickly aimed and pulled the trigger, blasting a decent sized hole in her other side. The shot was a bit closer than he had intended and it scraped by Dean's ribs, grazing him but thankfully not causing too much damage.

She howled in pain, jerking Dean backwards and they both crashed into the deep water behind them.

"NO!!" the other three screamed in unison as the creature disappeared, dragging Dean into the depths with her.

TBC

Please please please review! Special thanks to Jen who has been previewing the latest chapters for me and for being my beta!


	5. A Second Chance

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Dean's breath had hitched when he felt the searing pain in his side from his father's bullet. The small flair of relief that John had wounded her quickly disappeared when Dean felt himself being yanked backwards into the freezing water before he could catch his breath again.

The second he was fully submerged, his body went into shock. He tried to force his limbs to move so he could claw his way back to the surface again, but could only manage a few feeble swipes through the oppressive water.

The succubus's pale arms latched around his waist and pulled him further into the darkness.

He kicked and clawed at her, trying to break her hold, but this was where she thrived the best. She easily spun him around and grabbed a handful of his t-shirt, pulling him level to her.

She locked her lips onto his, sucking in deep breaths of his life-force. Her motive was no longer revenge now, but survival. She needed his strength to heal herself.

Her other hand moved greedily to the front of his jeans, trying to unbutton them. Since he had broken her spell over him, it was going to take a lot more effort to get what she needed, and she didn't have a lot of time to spare.

His numb fingers tried desperately to thwart her attempts, knocking her hand aside whenever he could find purchase.

She responded by lashing out and hitting him hard in the abs, knocking what little air he had out of his lungs in a painful gasp. He doubled over, losing track of which way was up and which was down as there was nothing but darkness around him now.

He felt her hands attack his jeans again, this time succeeding where they had previously failed.

"Stop squirming, Dean. Just relax…"

He felt her ice cold hand stroking his abdomen lovingly as his shirt was floating freely halfway up his chest. She giggled in delight.

It was the last thing he heard before he blacked out.

**********

John splashed his way into the murky water, casting his eyes about frantically for any sign of his eldest son. _Please, please, please…!_

The water was so still now that the nearly full moon shone on the surface of it like a reflection. _Come on, Dean…_

Sam and Bobby stood on the shore nearby, anxiously waiting for something to happen. Sam, who tended to be short on patience, managed to stride a few steps into the water before Bobby could throw a restraining arm around his chest and drag him back onto the sand. The youngest Winchester wasn't going to give in without a fight though.

"Bobby, let me go!" he screamed in anger, furiously trying to break the older man's grip.

"There's nothin' you can do, son. Jus' let your daddy handle it."

"But he's not doing _anything_! Dean's still in there somewhere. We have to find him!"

"Sam, you could drag the whole damn ocean but we're not gonna find him until she releases him, and she ain't gonna do that till she's good and ready… or dead."

Sam froze against Bobby's chest. "Until _she's _dead, or until _he's _dead?"

Bobby didn't have the heart to respond. Sam's knees gave out at Bobby's silent response. The older man eased the boy to the sand and tightened his grip around him for support. "I'm sorry, kid. There's just nothin' we can do right now except wait. You both got her good though. She won't be lastin' much longer."

_Neither will Dean…_ floated ominously through Sam's mind. He tried to keep his eyes on the water, praying to catch a glimpse of his brother, but his eyes were tearing up. Sam had been scared before plenty of times; felt the burning of adrenaline through his veins…

But he had never felt such agony in his heart before. He had never experienced the pain of loss. Sure, he had lost his mother and it made him sad to think about it sometimes, but he never had the chance to actually know her. _This _time was an altogether different story.

This was his _brother_, his best friend, his caregiver. Dean raised him while their father was out "on business," making sure he never ran out of food, never went cold, and always had some sort of roof over his head even if it meant Dean had to go without. Dean was everything to him, and this bitch had taken him away. _No. Not gonna happen._

"GIVE HIM BACK!" Sam screamed at the top of his lungs, needing to release some of the pain that was building inside of him before he exploded.

John turned back towards the shore and his heart clenched at the sight of his youngest looking so defeated. _This_ was what he had been trying to prevent all these years. _This_ was why he had trained his boys to fight and to hunt. _This _wasn't supposed to goddamn happen!

When the boys had been born, John and Mary had a whole different life planned for them. They had put together college funds and enjoyed discussing what they each thought the boys would become when they got older. John always thought Dean would be a mechanic, and since Sam was still so young, his best guess was maybe a teacher since the boy loved school so much.

Everything would change now though. John would have to pawn Sammy off to his friends and other hunters until he had the time to properly train the boy. They would grow further and further apart until Sam unleashed his stubbornness and left, just as Dean had predicted earlier. Dean was the glue that held this small family together, and they needed him back.

Unable to see Sam looking so broken, John turned his eyes back to the black water. He hadn't noticed before, but the water was ice cold and biting into his skin, all the way up to his thighs. It was nothing compared to the numbness he felt inside though.

He refused to walk away. Not when there was a slight chance she might let Dean go when she was finished with him. John would not abandon his son to walk the earth as the same damn thing they hunted. He would recover Dean's body and give him a proper hunter's burial. Dean had proven his worth time and time again. He would have been an excellent hunter, maybe even better than his daddy…

…His daddy, who was the reason Dean had come out here in the first place; the reason he wasn't coming back. _Oh god…What have I done?_

John's mind was unforgiving, repeating over and over again that this was all his fault, just like Mary's death. He wanted to throw himself into the icy depths to numb the searing pain in his heart, and to stop the accusing voices in his head. But he had to stay strong. He still had one son left, and damn it, he was going to protect him!

_Sammy…_ John turned back to his youngest once again. _He_ should be the one holding and comforting the boy. _He_ should be the one acting as the father. But he didn't know _how_ to be a father anymore. He was the drill sergeant; the Marine. Nevertheless, he should at least be with his youngest right now instead of tempting fate in the icy black waters.

He began dragging his heavy legs through the water which seemed to be grabbing at his ankles and slowing his progress towards the shore.

It was hard to hear over his own sloshing movements and the ringing in his ears that accompanied his shock, but he was sure he heard something break the surface of the water a few feet behind him. _She's back! She's taken what she wanted from Dean and now she wants more. Well she ain't gonna get it…_

John whirled back around, fury feeding his strength. He wasn't going to let her get away again.

What he saw nearly killed him right then and there. Dean's body was floating along the surface, facedown and unmoving. _Oh god…_

"Dean!" John threw himself back into the deeper water which instantly sent his muscles into shock but he fought through it. Nothing could keep him from his boy right now. _Nothing_.

Bobby and Sam both heard John's shout and their heads shot back up to see what was happening. It was too dark for them to see Dean, but they could _hear_ and just barely make out John's frantic movements in the water. Bobby rose to his feet, pulling Sam back up with him.

He was praying to a god he didn't even believe in that the eldest Winchester son was still alive. Sam clung onto his arm, using it to stay on his feet and also readying himself again to break free if necessary to get to his brother.

When John finally reached Dean, he threw an arm out to turn the boy over and felt instantly nauseas. Dean's skin was ice cold. _No no no no no…_

He pulled the boy's stiff body against his own and began the arduous swim back towards the shore. He was already running out of steam and his limbs were locking up from the cold. "Bobby!"

That was all it took to get the other man into motion. Bobby released Sam, who teetered but stayed upright, and raced to the water's edge, ready to help as soon as the others were within reach.

John pushed Dean up and forward as far as he could and Bobby grabbed the boy under his arms and pulled his limp body to shore. John crawled onto the sand next to them, shaking hard and panting with the effort.

Bobby took over while the other man caught his breath. "Sam! Go get some blankets from the room! Hurry!"

Sam jumped as Bobby's voice broke through the fog that had settled over his mind when his big brother had first disappeared. It took a second to register what the man was saying, but once it did, he tucked Dean's gun into the waistband of his jeans and shot off to the motel as quickly as his legs could carry him.

Bobby tapped the side of Dean's face harshly, hoping to elicit a response. "Jesus, John! He's ice cold!"

"No… sh-shit…" John grumbled through chattering teeth. "Water's g-gotta be t-twenty deg-grees…"

"Come on, kid. Wake up," Bobby instructed as he ran his knuckles down Dean's sternum. Had he been conscious, Dean would probably have been kicking the older man's ass for that painful move, but the boy didn't even twitch.

Bobby flattened his hand out, placing his palm heavily over Dean's heart. There was no rise and fall of his chest. There was barely a faint heartbeat thumping sluggishly beneath his fingers. Dean's lips were already blue. It wasn't looking good.

"He's not breathin', John."

"D-don't you let him d-die on me, B-Bobby. You b-bring him b-back, ya hear?" John struggled his way further up the beach till he was closer to his eldest and old friend. "P-please… I c-can't l-lose him."

"Me either, John. I ain't gonna let that happen."

Bobby tilted Dean's head back and lifted his chin, then placed his ear to the boy's mouth just to be certain there was no air flowing in or out of Dean's lungs. It was confirmed. Dean was not breathing.

"I know you're feelin' weak right now, John, but I need you to give breaths while I do compressions. Can you handle that?"

John nodded and got into position, finally getting some feeling back in his body. He stroked a sandy hand through Dean's short, spiky hair before starting the arduous process of CPR.

He pinched Dean's nose, sealed his mouth over his son's, then blew as much oxygen as he could muster into the boy's lungs, watching to see if his chest would rise and then fall.

It didn't. Something was blocking Dean's airway, and John was pretty sure it was a hell of a lot of water. He looked expectantly at Bobby who immediately prepared to start stomach compressions.

Bobby straddled Dean's legs just above his knees, purposefully ignoring the fact that the boy's jeans were unfastened, then interlaced his fingers with his right hand fisted over his left. He pressed the flat palm of his left hand against Dean's abdomen, between his rib cage and navel, then pressed firmly upwards and in five times.

Dean's body jolted with the force, but the water remained lodged. "Cough it up, kid. Come on…"

After five thrusts, John repeated the two breaths. Still, there was no movement in Dean's chest. "Breathe, damnit!" the terrified father shouted.

Bobby performed five more compressions, adding a bit more pressure this time around and hoping it didn't lead to any internal damage. _One problem at a time…_

John breathed for his son a third time, desperate for some positive results.

Nothing.

Bobby tightened his own muscles, determined to bring the boy back no matter what the cost. He pushed once, twice…

And water began to slowly trickle out of the side of Dean's mouth.

"We're gettin' there!" Bobby informed John and tried not to get his hopes too high. He pushed three times, four times …

John began slapping the side of Dean's face again. "Please, son. Fight back."

…Five times. Dean's face scrunched up in pain and confusion as water began to rush from his mouth. He wanted to inhale desperately, but the water just kept coming up and he was choking again.

"Turn him on his side!" Bobby barked before sliding off of Dean's legs and helping to lift Dean's right side to position the boy on his left.

John cradled Dean's head in the crook of his arm and held him up just high enough to keep him from breathing in the same puddle he was currently expelling. Dean's hands came up and scrabbled feebly at John's arm in fear.

"It's okay, Dean. I'm right here. I know it hurts. You need to relax and get it all up. Don't fight it."

Dean's chest was heaving with the efforts of throwing the water back up again. He felt so weak and ironically, drained.

Bobby had one hand on the boy's back to keep him balanced and the other against his stomach for support and comfort. He cringed when he felt the turmoil Dean's abdominal muscles were experiencing beneath his hand.

"Easy, kid…"

"D-d'd…?"

"Yeah, it's dad," John responded. "Can you talk to me, kiddo?"

"D-d'd?"

Dean sounded confused and his letters were slurring together. Not good. Both were signs of hypothermia, not to mention the convulsive shaking that was starting up now that he was breathing again and the fact that his scrabbling hands did not find purchase on John's arm. _Shit…_

Sam came running back across the beach, arms laden down with blankets. He almost jumped for joy when he realized that the men had gotten Dean awake and breathing again.

He skidded to his knees by his brother's side, dropped the blankets onto his lap, and gripped Dean's shaking shoulder to reassure himself that this was really Dean and he was going to be okay. He gasped when he felt how cold his brother's skin was.

His wide eyes met his father's who forced himself to remain emotionless. Now was _not_ the time to panic. "Let's get him inside, Bobby."

TBC

Keep those amazing reviews coming, and I'll do the same with the chapters! Poor Dean isn't out of the woods yet…


	6. No Choice

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

John sat Dean up far enough to drape one of the thick blankets around his shoulders and then wrapped an arm around his back, preparing to lift him.

"…can walk…" Dean mumbled, trying to push his father away.

Poor decision making and unawareness of his own physical state were two other signs of hypothermia and John didn't need any more evidence. His son was in serious trouble.

He slid his other arm underneath Dean's knees and with strength found only in a father's fierce determination to protect his son, he stood, cradling Dean against his chest.

Dean continued trying to break free so he could walk on his own.

John just tightened his grip. "I've got you, Dean. Calm down."

All three of them hustled back to the room, Bobby and Sam doing what they could to clear the path so John wasn't hindered in any way. He placed Dean on the bed farthest from the door and the drafty windows.

"Sam, warm up some water on the stove. Bobby, we need all the towels we've got and the thermometer out of the first aid kit."

Sam and Bobby immediately set to the tasks they were assigned as John tended to his eldest.

He quickly pulled the blanket from around Dean's shoulders and started tugging off his wet t-shirt. Dean whined, trying to keep his shirt on. "'s too cold…" he forced out through chattering teeth.

"I know, kiddo. That's why I need to get you out of these wet clothes. You want to get warm, don't you?"

Dean nodded, only half understanding his father's words as his eyelids started to droop again.

"Stay with me, Dean!" John demanded, giving his son's shoulders a rough shake.

Dean's eyes snapped back open in fear and he recoiled slightly with a soft gasp.

"I need you to stay awake, son. Can you do that for me?" John asked in a more soothing tone now that he was sure he had his boy's attention.

Dean nodded once again, more lucid this time around.

"Good." John finally managed to wrestle the drenched shirt from his son's frailly thin body.

Dean instinctively wrapped his arms around himself, desperate for warmth.

"Hang on, Tiger…" John pulled Dean's arms carefully away from his chest to make sure there was no physical trauma done by the Rusalka. He only released Dean's wrists when he was satisfied that his boy was still in one piece, aside from the abdominal bruising from the CPR and the tear in his right side from John's bullet. He would have to address that injury soon, but thankfully, the cold was preventing the wound from bleeding excessively. "Okay, go ahead."

Dean's arms immediately snapped back to where they had been and he started to slowly rock back and forth on the bed.

John grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around Dean's shoulders once again. He wanted to rub up and down his son's arms to help spread the warmth faster, but he knew if there was any frostbitten tissue, the rubbing could cause severe damage. He settled for using the blanket to pat Dean's blue-tinted skin dry before moving down to his jeans. His eyes flickered back up to his son's vacant ones, but he didn't have any other choice in the matter. He needed to get _all_ of Dean's wet clothes off.

He gently gripped Dean's shoulders and eased him down to the mattress so his weight was more distributed, then he moved down to Dean's ankles and carefully began to pull the pant legs over his feet.

Dean freaked instantly, sitting bolt upright and grabbing clumsily at his jeans. "No! No, please… Won' let you…"

John felt like he was going to throw up. His boy sounded so broken and scared.

"It's okay, Dean. You're safe now. I won't let anyone hurt you, but I have to get you warmed up, understand?"

"Don', please…" Dean continued to whimper, getting more and more frustrated that his fingers weren't responding like they were supposed to.

"Dean, stop." John moved back up the bed and carefully gathered his son's hands into his own, putting as little pressure as he could against the fragile digits. "Look at me, buddy."

Dean's eyes shot all around the room, looking at everything but seeing nothing.

John collected both of Dean's hands into one of his own and used his other to gently grip his son's chin, forcing eye contact.

"Dean? It's just me, okay? You need to calm down before you hurt yourself."

The boy was close to hyperventilating but his eyes finally met his father's.

"I d-didn' l-let her do it, d-dad," Dean felt the need to reveal. "D-didn' le' her…"

John wasn't sure what to make of his son's declaration, so he forced himself to smile comfortingly while inside he was boiling over with fury. "That's my boy. We'll talk about it later when you're feelin' better. Right now, I need you to lay back down though, okay?"

Dean nodded, phasing out again as his eyes started roaming aimlessly around the room for a second time.

"Okay." John released Dean's hands and eased his son back to the sheets before waited a brief moment to see if he would get back up. He was relieved to find that Dean stayed right where he was placed, obediently. "That's good, Dean. Don't move now, alright?"

Another nod was followed by a few hacking coughs and Dean's face screwed up in an obvious sign of pain.

"Easy, buddy…" John cooed, wincing at the sounds coming from Dean's abused lungs. He wrapped the blanket tighter around his son, giving him a bit more dignity and warmth before returning to the end of the bed.

After a short game of tug of war, he dropped Dean's soaked jeans and boxer shorts to the floor. Bobby chose that moment to return with the thermometer and a stack of towels.

"How's he doin', John?"

"He's hangin' in there. Can you find a pair of Dean's boxers in his duffle for me? Sweatpants and sweatshirt too for later?"

"You got it, John." Bobby deposited his first load of goods on the edge of the bed and moved over to Dean's bag where he started rifling around for dry clothes.

"Sam?!" John yelled to get his youngest son's attention. "How's that water comin'?!"

"Just about ready!" Sam called back, eager to return to his brother's side.

John draped a second blanket around Dean's body, then grabbed the thermometer. He eased it into his son's ear and waited for the beep. The sound startled Dean and he blinked, wide-eyed, at his father, looking confused.

John placed his hand against Dean's cheek in comfort as he read the numbers; 91.3. _Shit…_If his temperature dropped another degree or two, Dean would stop shaking. That would be a _very _bad sign.

He placed the thermometer by the side of the bed for easy retrieval, then turned to Bobby who wordlessly tossed him a pair of Dean's shorts. He eased them up the boy's numb legs and onto his hips, careful not to apply more pressure to his skin than was necessary, before wrapping the blanket around his son once again.

Sam strode as quickly as he could into the room, trying not to spill the pan of warmed water everywhere. He set it down on a folded towel before sitting next to his brother on the bed.

Bobby placed the sweats he found at the bottom of the bed for now and moved to the pan with a handful of facecloths. He submerged each cloth in the water before wringing them out and handing them to John one at a time.

John draped one over Dean's throat, then slid two others beneath the blankets; one across his chest, and the other over his lower abdomen, trying to distribute the heat. Dean shifted in protest as the warm water felt like it was burning his frozen skin. His head tossed from side to side on the pillow in discomfort.

"…b-burns…"

"Leave them where they are, Dean. They'll help, I promise."

Either Dean didn't hear his father's words, or he chose to ignore them. Panting heavily with the effort, he continued to squirm until the cloths were laying on the bed instead of burning into his flesh. John sighed in annoyance, trying to control his emotions so he didn't repeat the same mistakes that started this whole mess.

"Dean, stop squirming. Just relax, buddy."

Dean froze immediately, the Rusalka's words coming back to him. _"Stop squirming, Dean. Just relax…"_

Sam noticed the change in his brother's body language. "Dean? What's wrong?" He reached out and placed a gentle hand over his brother's arm.

Dean flung himself sideways, breaking the contact with Sam, and began retching over the side of the bed. He managed to expel a bit more water before having to deal with painful dry heaves.

"Dean!" Sam and John both yelled in surprise as Bobby grabbed the nearest trashcan and held it beneath Dean's head.

Sam tried to place his hand back on his brother's arm for support but Dean gasped in fear and pain at the slight pressure. Sam retracted his hand as though he had been burned. "Dean?" His voice quavered as he forced the word past his lips.

John, realizing what might have set his eldest off, hung his head sadly and closed his eyes, at a complete loss as to how to help his son get through this. _One problem at a time…_

Once Dean gained control of his stomach again, he slumped weakly against the mattress, too close to the edge for anyone's comfort.

John tucked the blankets back around his son and eased him closer to the center of the bed. He ignored Dean's flinch under his touch.

"Deep breaths, kiddo. You'll be okay."

John watched carefully as Dean slowly started to relax once again. He waited a beat, then checked Dean's temperature again. 91.1. The warm towels and blankets weren't enough. Worse than that, Dean wasn't shivering as hard as he was before. Though it was a blessing in disguise for the poor boy's screaming muscles, it was a big red flag for John.

He knew what needed to be done, but he also knew Dean wasn't going to appreciate it very much. Sometimes being a dad flat out sucked.

"Bobby…"

"Yeah, John. I know. I'm on it." Bobby made his way into the bathroom and turned on the shower, making sure the temperature was luke-warm as he plugged the tub and let it fill up.

"Dad?" Sam prodded, knowing what was coming and knowing his brother wasn't going to like it.

"We don't have a choice, Sammy."

TBC

Hey everyone! Iuliana pointed out to me that I haven't explained what the Rusalka does to her victims. Thanks for that, and here is a brief description of the lore for all of you!

"The Rusalka is a female demon or water succubus which lures men into the water to seduce them and have sexual intercourse with them, drawing energy from the men to sustain themselves, often until the point of exhaustion or death."

I promise I will reveal if she succeeded in Dean's case, whether she's dead or not, and though the family is playing nice right now while Dean is still in danger, none of them have forgotten what John did to start this whole mess! Plenty of angst, drama, and healing to go! Thanks for sticking with me, and the reviews are definitely helping!! Hint, hint… haha


	7. Just Breathe

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

"Ready, John!" Bobby called, sticking his head out of the bathroom door. "Need some help gettin' him in here?"

"Might be a good idea. I don't want to risk hurtin' him more. Sam, bring the first aid kit into the bathroom for me, will ya?"

"Yes, sir… But why…?"

"Don't worry about that. Just do it."

Sam bit his tongue and did as he was told. He was really getting sick of his father barking out orders without sharing his reasoning behind them though. At some point, he wasn't going to stand for it anymore. At some point, he'd be living his _own _life, with his _own _rules. But right now, his brother's life was at stake and he wasn't about to start an argument just for the sake of arguing.

Bobby came over to the end of the bed, ready to help in any way he could.

"Can you grab his legs, Bobby?"

"Sure can."

"Alright. Try not to jostle him too much."

"This ain't my first rodeo, John. On three?"

"On three." John slid in behind his eldest, lifting his torso onto his lap to get the best grip he could. Dean groaned at the movement, but didn't protest otherwise. Both men pulled the blankets off and tossed them to the side. "Alright, one… two… three!"

Both men lifted as one and they made their way into the bathroom. "Still with me, son?" John checked to make sure Dean hadn't passed out on them yet.

"Mhm…"

"Good boy. Almost there, bud."

Bobby and John went right up to the tub, preparing to lower Dean into the barely warm water. Bobby waited for the cue, then quirked an eyebrow when he didn't get it.

"Hang on, Bobby. Dean, I need you to focus for a second, okay?"

"Mmm…"

"We're gonna sit you in the water for a bit to help warm you up. You have to stay calm though, understand? There's too much chance that you'll hurt yourself if you struggle. You're perfectly safe here and we won't let anythin' happen to you, I promise."

John's heart was pounding in his chest. There were so many ways this could all go wrong, and he knew if he had been in Dean's place, the _last _thing he'd want to do right now is get back into water. He wanted his boy's consent before making him relive his recent nightmare.

"W-wa'er…?"

"Water. Yeah, bud."

"D-don' w-wanna…"

"I know, Dean, but we don't have a choice right now. We have to get your temp back up."

Dean was starting to shake a bit more, but it was hard to tell if the change was due to his temperature rising slightly, or because he was terrified.

"'m ok-kay. Jus'… s-sleep…"

"No, kiddo. Stay with me. It's just for a little while. I need you to cooperate here, Dean. Can you do that for me?"

"'m…K-kay…"

Taking that for acquiescence, John nodded to Bobby and they carefully lowered the boy towards the water. Dean's panicked eyes met his brother's, alerting him to his plight.

"Dad, wait!" Sam shouted, realizing that Dean wasn't actually agreeing. His brother just wasn't capable of saying full sentences anymore. He was _trying_ to say that he was okay and didn't want to be put anywhere near the water.

But it was too late. The second his waist was submerged, Dean's strength came back to a certain degree, brought on by his survival instincts and a deep-seated fear of drowning again. He lashed out, coming very close to giving his father a black eye but John ducked just in time.

"Dean! Easy!" the man shouted desperately, trying to get a grip on his son's flailing limbs before the boy connected with something hard and did permanent damage to himself.

Bobby, who had yet to release Dean's legs, clung on tighter, pinning his ankles to the edge of the tub. John grabbed Dean's forearms, holding them above his son's head so it would be harder for him to struggle. Dean's back arched painfully as he did whatever he could to escape the confining water.

"Dean, listen to me! Dean? Dean! Damn it… Sam!" John knew what Dean really needed to feel safe right now, and it wasn't to have orders shouted at him. He needed his little brother. "Sam, talk to him. Get him to calm down!"

Sam pushed his father aside, taking hold of his brother's wrists gently as he knelt by the side of the tub. "Dean? You're safe, big brother. Look at me, man… Please."

He kept up a soft litany long enough for John to raid the first aid kit he had requested for the worst case scenario, fill a syringe with a mild sedative, and slip back to the side of the tub.

"S-S'mmy…?" Dean whispered, confusion crossing his face again as he tried to figure out where he was. He could have sworn he was back in the ocean, being dragged down under the water by the Rusalka again… He had no idea there were tears running down his cheeks.

John took hold of his son's left arm, freeing up one of Sam's hands which the boy redirected to Dean's chin, turning it so his big brother was looking straight at him.

Dean's wide, green eyes met Sam's. "D-don' le' her, S'm…" he forced out in a desperate whisper.

"I've got you, Dean. I won't let her hurt you again. Do you hear me?"

"N-no… Y-you, S'mmy…"

"Me? What about me, Dean?"

"Don' le' her… ge' you… Jus' lemme go…"

"God, Dean… No." Even while completely terrified by the idea of letting the Rusalka get a hold of him again, Dean was willing to surrender himself if it kept his little brother safe. Yet another thing Sam needed to put an end to before he was the cause of Dean's untimely demise. "I got her good, big brother. She's not gonna get you again, I swear."

Sam wiped the tear tracks off of his brother's cheeks, taking care to lightly skim over the bruise that was starting to show on Dean's cheek bone from his father's accidental backhand.

He wished he could go backwards in time and keep his thoughts of freedom to himself instead of letting his brother take the hit for it… literally. As always, Dean put Sam's well-being before his own and protected him in every way he could. It just wasn't fair.

John jabbed the needle into his eldest son's bicep while the teen's attention was directed elsewhere, pressing down the plunger slowly until the drug had been emptied into Dean's system.

Dean gasped at the sharp sting, looking around wildly for the cause of it. For the second time that night, John saw the hurt betrayal in his boy's eyes and it broke his heart.

"It won't knock you out, Dean," he felt the need to justify his actions. "Just take the edge off a bit, okay? I know you're confused, son, but you need to relax. No one is gonna hurt you here."

John knelt behind the tub so he could lock his forearm around Dean's chest to keep his son's head above the water now that the boy's muscles were forced into a semi-paralyzed state.

Bobby slowly released Dean's ankles, making sure the fight had gone out of the kid before letting his guard down. He felt ill when he realized that even the slight pressure he had used on the boy had left painful looking bruises circling his ankles. He kept repeating to himself that he didn't have a choice in the matter. The damage would have been far worse had Dean kicked the wall or some other unforgiving object nearby.

He kept Dean's legs out of the water, knowing that the warmth would send the cold blood in his limbs back to his heart which could cause cardiac arrest.

John used his free hand to hold Dean's left arm out of the water as well, leaving the boy's right arm in Sam's care.

Sam released his brother's wrist and opted for intertwining their hands, but it was more so to keep the contact with Dean than to follow the proper procedure for a hypothermic victim.

John cautiously lowered Dean further into the water with his right arm still securely wrapped around Dean's chest, inch by inch, until it was up to the boy's chin. He was trying desperately not to scare his son, but he knew the attempt was futile.

Dean swallowed hard as his heart rate sped up to a painfully fast rate, wishing like hell that he could be back in his bed buried under layers of blankets rather than being forced to endure this water torture, feeling completely helpless again.

"I've got you, buddy," John whispered against the side of Dean's head, giving the boy's chest a gentle squeeze to prove his point. "I know I don't deserve it, but I need you to trust me right now, son."

Seconds later, John felt the last dregs of resistance leave Dean's body and tears prickled behind his own eyes. After everything he had put his son through tonight, the boy still trusted him whole-heartedly. Even in his pained and confused state, Dean did as his father instructed. John honestly didn't know anyone stronger or braver than his eldest son.

"Thank you, Dean." He gently kissed his son's temple, letting his paternal instincts take over momentarily while they all had a moment to rest.

Bobby dropped his eyes to the floor, feeling like he was intruding on the family moment but glad he had been there to witness the more human side of John. There was no doubt John loved his boys more than anything. But sometimes, it took extreme measures for him to show it. It didn't _get_ much more extreme than this night.

The pitifully depressed look of surrender in Dean's eyes broke his little brother's heart. Sam hoped to hell that he would have his cocky, devil-may-care brother back soon, but the twisting in his gut told him Dean might not bounce back this time around as quickly as he usually did.

"Don't leave me, Dean," he whispered so only his brother could hear him.

Dean was exhausted. A human body wasn't meant to deal with this much emotional and physical strain. That, mixed with the drugs now coursing through his system, pushed his adrenaline to the back burner and all the fight left him.

If he slid beneath the surface again right now, he wasn't sure he'd put in the effort to survive. At this point, he left his own life in the hands of his family. All he wanted to do was let the darkness take him so he wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. He couldn't stand the pitying looks he was getting from everyone else in the room. Hunters aren't supposed to be pitied, they're supposed to be feared, trusted, strong…

He was a failure through and through. He let his little brother down when the night began, and let the whole world down less than an hour later. He clearly didn't have what it took to be a hunter. He was pathetic.

Even now, he could clearly see where he was and who was with him, but he couldn't fully push away the anxiety. He was in a _bathtub _for crying out loud! There was no creature or threat here and deep down, he knew that. That didn't quiet his nerves though. Totally pathetic.

Worst of all, his body wouldn't even allow him to give up. Every time he tried to escape to the blessed darkness, his shaking would increase and he would feel the horrible pins and stabbing needles shoot through his nervous system as his abused muscles spasmed and his skin burned as it began to defrost. Unfortunately, the paralyzing drugs were useless for numbing the pain.

On a particularly harsh spasm, Dean nearly knocked his head into the porcelain tub. But John had tucked a towel there, foreseeing the inevitable tremors.

Dean Winchester was falling apart, and everyone he loved was sitting here, watching it happen and feeling completely helpless as they could do nothing to ease his pain. It was mortifying. When Dean let slip a pitiful whimper, John's supporting arm was the only thing keeping him from trying to drown himself.

"Easy, Dean… Just breathe through it," John coached for what felt like the hundredth time since they had gotten Dean into the tub. He checked his watch and was dismayed to find that it had only been about five minutes so far. Time really drags when you're torturing your children.

TBC

Please review! Plenty more to come, and always open for suggestions!


	8. All the Comforts of Bobby

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Every couple of minutes, Bobby would run the hot water just long enough to warm the tub another few degrees. He couldn't risk sending Dean's body into shock with an abrupt temperature change.

When the last heating attempt forced a whimper out of the boy, Bobby excused himself to go retrieve the thermometer and some glue to put his heart back together again. He loved both of those boys like they were his own, and after everything the poor kid had been through over the past three hours or so, the last thing he wanted to do was cause him more pain. He could only imagine what this was doing to John.

Bobby handed the thermometer over to Dean's rightful father and forced a half smile, knowing it wasn't much for comfort but feeling the need to do _something_. John took the instrument and returned the smile as best he could with a nod of his head.

John checked to see if Dean was still awake first so he didn't startle him. His eldest was staring determinedly at the far wall, biting his bottom lip to keep any other pathetic whimpers from bursting out of himself.

Sam occasionally squeezed his brother's hand gently, letting him know he was still there, and each time, Dean did his best to return the favor. He couldn't manage much in his weakened state, but it was enough.

"Just gonna take your temp again, bud," John warned Dean before easing the instrument into his son's ear once again.

BEEP!

_Thank god…_

"Uh… Dad?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"The water…"

"What about…? Damn it."

The clear water was slowly turning to a light shade of red and darkening by the second. Dean's body temperature was warm enough now for his blood to start circulating faster, which wasn't exactly a positive thing with the gash in his side. All Dean's struggling and shaking had reopened the wound as well.

"Well, Dean, looks like you've lucked out. Bath time's over, kiddo. I can't bandage that underwater. Sam, can you go reheat the water on the stove for me? Your brother's gonna need it."

"Yes, sir." Sam knew that was actually code for _go do something else so we can get him out of the tub without embarrassing him in front of his little brother…_

He squeezed Dean's hand one last time, comforted by the fact that Dean's responses were getting stronger each time. "See you out there, man." He turned and quietly left the room.

"Is it okay if Bobby stays to help, sport?" John questioned, trying to cater to Dean's needs as much as possible. _Better late than never._

Dean nodded, knowing his father would need the assistance. He wished to hell he was strong enough to do it himself and spare everyone the awkward moments, but he didn't have much choice in the matter.

Bobby patted Dean gently on the shoulder, knowing the boy trusted him completely and loving the kid for it. "I'm gonna go grab his sweats from the bedroom. Be right back, John." He slipped out of the room as well, giving the other two some father/son time to prepare.

"How're you doin', Dean?" John asked the second they were alone, hoping to get an honest response out of his son.

"B-been b-better…" Dean forced a half-smile.

"We'll get you there, son. Just hang on, alright?"

"Y-yeah…"

"Dean, I've gotta ask you somethin'. Do you remember what happened after she pulled you under water?"

Dean swallowed hard again as scattered images raced through his mind. He shook his head. "N-not r-really, s-sorry."

"That's okay, pal. We'll talk about it later when you're feelin' a bit better."

Dean's eyes dropped to the tinted water. He didn't want to talk about it _at all_, but he knew he'd have to if he was going to keep his family safe. The longer he could put it off though, the better.

Bobby returned, and with John's help, the two men eased Dean out of the water, laid him carefully down on a towel they had spread out on the floor, patted him dry, and swapped out the soaked boxers for the warm sweatpants but he let them rest just shy of his waist.

John used this opportunity to scan his son's body for any additional injuries he may have previously overlooked. Thankfully, all he found were a few deep bruises, four crescent shaped cuts on his left hip and shoulder where Sarina's nails had pierced his skin, and the gash on his side made by John's bullet. But this list didn't include the mental scares the boy was sure to have after all this.

John carefully ran his thumb over the marks that he left exposed on Dean's hip. They were deep enough to leave painful red marks, but otherwise didn't do much damage. "Do these hurt, Dean?"

Dean lifted his head enough to see what his father was referring to, then let it drop back to the hard floor as the blush crept up his cheeks again. How had he let this happen? How did he fall so easily for her trap? How had he let her _use_ him like that in front of his family? He shook his head no in response, feeling miserable.

"And your shoulder?"

"'s fine."

"I'm gonna swab the marks with a little holy water, just to be safe." John took a small vial out of the first aid kit and poured some of the fluid onto a cotton ball. He gently patted it over each mark, grateful that the wounds did not sizzle and steam as he did so.

When he finished with Dean's hip, he secured the sweatpants up where they belonged before moving on to the back of the boy's shoulder.

These marks were just as deep as the ones on his hip, but thankfully, no deeper.

While John was patching Dean up, Bobby drained and rinsed the tub, making sure there wasn't a red water ring around the sides. It was bad enough they were about to get the white towels all bloody.

Knowing they needed access to Dean's side in order to check the graze, John left the boy's sweatshirt off and settled for wrapping a towel around his son's torso like a blanket as he sat him up against the wall. "We'll make this quick, promise. Then you can get all bundled up again."

John grabbed the rest of the first aid kit off the sink's counter and knelt by Dean's side. "Let's have a look at that gash."

He eased Dean's right elbow away from his body and prodded the wound to make sure there was no debris stuck in it and that the ribs underneath it weren't shattered. Normally, he could just ask Dean if they felt broken because he certainly has had a lot of experience with broken bones over the years, but the boy probably wouldn't be coherent enough to make that judgment for a while yet due to the hypothermia.

Dean gasped at the pressure, then quickly bit his bottom lip again. He didn't want to make this any harder on his father than it already was.

John knew the mild sedative was already wearing off. It wasn't meant for long term, just to help control Dean's panic a bit. He shot a look over at Bobby who quickly moved in behind Dean, sitting on the floor and resting the boy against his chest. That way, he could restrain him if necessary.

"Thankfully, it hasn't gotten infected yet, but I want to clean it out just to be safe. Then we'll see if it needs a few stitches or just some butterfly bandages, okay?"

Another weak nod. Dean wasn't really listening. He knew the drill, and he knew it was going to hurt. He didn't really care about the details.

John poured some alcohol onto a cotton swab and shot Bobby another look who secured his arms around the boy to prevent too much movement. John started by cleaning the surrounding area, sopping up the blood that was trickling a bit heavier down Dean's side now that he was starting to thaw.

Then he poured alcohol onto a fabric swatch that wouldn't leave pieces of cotton in the wound and with a mumbled apology to his son, he pressed the fabric into the wound as deeply as he could go.

Dean's back arched and his head flew back in agony as Bobby tried his damned best to restrain him. "Ah! Sh-shit!"

"Okay, okay… Almost done, kiddo… Hang in there…" John kept talking, hoping to give Dean something else to focus on as he moved the fabric around, taking care to swab any place that could be ideal for growing an infection. He was also able to gauge the depth of the wound, coming to the unfortunate conclusion that a few stitches would be necessary after all.

Finally, he removed the fabric, held a towel against Dean's side just under the wound, and poured the bottle of alcohol straight over the gash. Dean bit through his lip as the chemical frothed and felt like acid searing into his skin.

"God, I'm so sorry, Dean," John murmured, patting the wound dry again and checking to see if the bleeding had slowed at all. The apology was meant for more than the pain he was inflicting now though. It was for the fact that none of this would have happened if it weren't for him being so thick-headed. It was for the fact that it was _John's_ bullet that pierced his son's side to begin with. And everyone in the room knew it.

"Think you can handle about six stitches right now, bud? We could probably wait a bit if you need to…"

"N-now…" Dean panted out, then skated his tongue across his throbbing bottom lip.

Bobby watched as John carefully disinfected, then threaded a curved needle. John slid to his boy's side, ready to begin, but then paused and looked up at his friend.

"Bobby, that's not really gonna work, man…"

Bobby looked up at John confused for a second before he realized what the man was talking about. He had taken to gently rocking Dean in his arms while waiting for John to get prepared. But obviously, the swaying would make stitching rather complicated.

"Oh, right." He brought them both to a standstill and settled for putting his head against Dean's instead. "You speak up if you need a break, ya hear?" he demanded next to Dean's ear.

He felt the boy nod, but knew it was a lie that both of them needed to accept. Sometimes, Dean searched out the pain to cleanse his soul or take punishment he thought he deserved. No, the boy wouldn't tell John to stop. He needed the release.

This sure as hell wasn't going to be easy with Dean still shaking as hard as he was. Just six stitches… Then it'd all be over.

Only then did John realize it wasn't just Dean shaking now. His own wet clothes were plastered to him, and while he wasn't fully submerged and he didn't spend as much time in the water as Dean had, his body was finally telling him enough was enough.

He brought his hands close to Dean's side, but he was having trouble gripping the needle and keeping it steady. Dean wasn't going to say anything to protect himself, but he squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the pain of having a needle shakily woven through his skin. Bobby came to the rescue.

"John, you're just as frozen as he is at this point. Why don't you go get changed and I'll finish this up? Otherwise we'll have to start drawin' a bath for you and no one wants to see that…"

"Thanks for your support, Bobby," John growled, but he knew his friend was right.

"Fine, but if either of you need me, I'll be right in the other room."

"We'll manage just fine. 'Sides, the poor kid is probably sick of lookin' at your ugly mug constantly hoverin'."

John snorted, shaking his head. Then he ruffled Dean's hair and made his way back into the bedroom to search through his own duffle.

Bobby didn't move immediately, content to just rest for a second with Dean safely in his arms. "How're you holdin' up, kid?"

"'m g-good…"

"Yeah, I'll bet. And by _good_, you mean achin' all over, frozen to the bone, mortified by all the attention, and completely exhausted, right?"

For the first time that night, Dean actually managed a soft chuckle.

"Thought so. What do ya say we get this over with so you can get tucked in and pass the hell out?"

"K-kay."

"I don't suppose you can stop the shakin' long enough for me to patch you up?"

Dean just shot him a weary look over his shoulder.

Bobby sighed. "Yeah, didn't think so. Alright, I suppose I've handled worse and in worse conditions, but my body ain't that flexible, kid. Gotta lay you down on the floor again or this ain't gonna work."

It was killing Dean that he had so many retorts for that statement but it would take too much effort to spit them out. He settled for another nod and had enough control over his muscles now to help the older man ease him back to the floor. Bobby winked comfortingly at the boy as he tried his best not to loom and appear intimidating.

Dean was able to relax minutely. For some reason, things never seemed as bad as they were with Bobby around.

TBC

Shout out to deangirl1 who reminded me that the Rusalka had also dug her claws into Dean's shoulders when she was using him as a shield. I would have forgotten to address that fact in this chapter if she hadn't brought it to my attention, so thank you! Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated!


	9. What Really Matters

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Once Dean was relatively comfortable on the floor again, Bobby disinfected his hands and took up the stitching needle John had abandoned. He moved Dean's right arm up so that it was perpendicular to his body, then sat down in the "L" he had just made, making sure Dean couldn't bring his arm back down on a pain reflex.

"Here goes nothin'…" Bobby warned before carefully piercing Dean's skin, threading the needle through to the other side, then drawing the first section of the wound closed as he tugged on the thread.

Dean's arm twitched the second he felt the familiar pinch, instinctively wanting to wrap it around his side protectively. He settled for latching onto Bobby's pant leg, just above the man's ankle.

Bobby knew he needed to get the boy's mind off of the pain, so he launched into the first topic that came to mind as he tied off the first stitch and began the second.

"So what happened with you and your daddy earlier… You know it was an accident, right?"

Dean looked directly into Bobby's eyes, surprised that the man had found out about the little "dispute" he had had earlier with John. But then he quickly looked away again.

"Yeah."

"He wants to keep you boys safe is all. He's scared he'll lose you both."

Dean grimaced as Bobby pulled the second stitch tight. "I know."

"Do you? He loves you two more than anythin'. I also happen to know you're Sammy's great protector and that he worships the ground you walk on. You really think you can just let him walk out the door and start a whole new life?"

Dean grunted in pain, but he wasn't sure if it was because Bobby had started the third stitch, or because of Bobby's words. "Jus' want him t-to be h-happy."

"You're a good kid, you know that? Stronger than anyone else I know. What's your secret, huh?"

Bobby moved on to the fourth stitch while Dean took a moment to think over his question.

"W-wheaties."

Bobby snorted. "Should've known you'd say somethin' witty like that, smart-ass. You think you've got muscles in these little toothpick arms o' yours?" Fifth stitch…

"M-more than you, old m-man."

"Who you callin' _old man_, tyke? Just cause you're barely outta diapers…"

"B-but you'll be b-back in 'em soon."

Obviously, Dean preferred humor right now than psychological chit chat, so Bobby verbally jousted with him as he neared the end of the wound.

"Don't make me shoot you myself, boy…" Final stitch.

"I'll g-give you a f-free sh-shot."

"I'll take a raincheck. I just finished patchin' your ass up. Not gonna waste my talents by makin' a new hole for the fun of it."

He cleaned around the wound again, dabbed disinfecting cream over the stitches, then smoothed a thick bandage over them, taping it in place.

"Done and done. You alright, kid?"

Dean smiled as he released his death grip on the man's calf. "Th-thanks, B-Bobby."

"Anytime, sport. What do you say we get you back into a nice warm bed now?"

"Th-thought you'd n-never ask. D-dad okay?"

"I'm sure he's fine. Probably just sulkin' cause he was startin' to prune. I'll go check on him. Don't you go anywhere now." He patted Dean's shoulder gently before rising stiffly to his feet and cracking his back.

Dean glared good-humoredly as if to say _like I could go anywhere even if I wanted to…_

Bobby smirked, winked, then went into the bedroom to make sure John was coping with everything.

"John? You all set?"

John was stripping the drenched sheets off of Dean's bed and tossing them into a corner of the room. He was dressed in a dry set of clothes, but he was still shaking a bit.

"'m good," he mumbled, focused on the task at hand.

"If I don't let Dean pull that shit with me, what makes you think you're so special?"

John paused at the mention of his son. "He alright?"

"Patched up and ready for bed."

"Good... Good." John dropped his head to his chest, too tired to hold back the guilt anymore.

"John, he doesn't hate you, ya know. In fact, I'm pretty sure he's already forgiven you."

"That makes one of us," he grumbled as he returned his attention to the task at hand.

Bobby stepped forward. "I've got this, John. Go see to your son."

John paused again. "Yeah. Okay. You sure you…?"

"I think I can handle makin' a bed. I wasn't exactly born yesterday."

John chuckled. "More like a century ago."

"You ain't so spry yourself, ya old geezer."

Bobby pulled a set of spare sheets from the only closet in the room and took up where John had left off.

"Water's ready again, dad!" Sam called from the kitchen.

"Pour some in a glass, would ya? Then meet us back in the bedroom," John replied before heading towards the bathroom door.

"Hey, John?"

"Yeah?" He turned back just in time to catch the sweatshirt that was thrown his way.

"He'll be needin' that."

"Thanks, Bobby." _For everything._

"Mhm. Let me know if you need some help in there."

John nodded, then entered the bathroom to find Dean laying on the floor, right where Bobby had left him.

"How's the side, kiddo?"

"G-good as n-new," Dean forced a half smile, trying to comfort his father.

John held up the sweatshirt. "Brought a peace offerin'."

"I'll t-take it."

John helped his son sit up and pulled the towel from his shoulders before easing the boy's head through the collar. The arms were a bit more difficult to maneuver but with a little teamwork, they managed. For the final touch, John pulled the hood over Dean's head to keep in the warmth.

"Alright. Bedtime, sport. Think you can stand with some help, or should I get Bobby back in here?"

"I can d-do it."

"Let's take it slow." He moved behind Dean and secured his arms underneath his son's shoulders, hoisting him up onto his feet.

Dean's knees immediately gave way, but having had plenty of experience carrying wounded soldiers and hunters over the years, John was able to adjust his grip and take on the majority of Dean's weight.

They made their way, step by slow step, into the bedroom and John gently deposited his son back on the now dry bed. He pulled the covers up to Dean's neck.

Sam came back into the bedroom with a steaming glass of water in hand which he passed to his father. John sat on the side of the bed.

"I want you to drink as much of this as you can, dude. Little sips though."

"Wh-what, no hot ch-chocolate?"

John smiled, remembering how Mary used to make the comfort beverage for their eldest whenever he came in from playing outside in the snow. "Maybe later. Don't want to push our luck right now."

Dean was able to lift his own head, but John wasn't about to risk his son spilling hot water all over himself if he couldn't grip the cup, so John kept control of it instead.

He moved the cup to Dean's lips, sliding it between his chattering teeth before tilting it enough to allow some of the fluid to pour into the boy's mouth.

Dean spluttered as the relatively hot water wormed its way down his frozen esophagus, coughing some of the water back up, but managing to get at least half of the gulp down.

"Nice and slow, pal…" John coached, tilting the cup some more.

Dean managed a few more sips before pulling his head back, clearly stating he had had enough. John wasn't fully satisfied just yet though. He moved the cup as Dean moved, refusing to let his son quit.

"Bit more, Dean. Come on. It'll help."

He forced the boy to swallow a few more mouthfuls before finally conceding to Dean's protests and putting the cup down on the nightstand.

Dean dropped his head back to the pillow, feeling completely drained once again. It had been a very long night. If only he could stop the shaking, he was sure he'd be fast asleep by now. But as it was, all he could manage was to curl up into a tight ball on his left side.

John sighed, wishing there was some way he could do more to ease Dean's distress. Then it hit him. "Sam, I need you to slide in next to your brother. He needs to share your body heat for a while."

John would have done it himself, but he was shaking almost as badly as his eldest at this point.

Sam didn't hesitate. He pulled off his brother's jacket that he was still wearing before crawling under the blankets. He plastered his chest to Dean's back and threw his right arm protectively around him, taking care not to put too much pressure on his big brother's bruised abdomen or to rest his arm on the newly stitched wound.

He flashed back to a time when Dean used to do the same for him after a horrible nightmare or during a bad storm when dad was off on a hunt. He smiled to himself as he remembered how Dean would hum Metallica songs until Sam fell asleep. Though the roles were reversed now, he still felt that extra sense of security being so close to his brother.

It appeared that Dean felt the same way. At first he tensed, feeling a body grab hold of him from behind again, but once he was able to grasp the fact that it was Sammy, he relaxed against his brother, grateful for the added warmth. It was also comforting to know someone had his back now. He finally felt safe.

"If you start to feel too cold, you tell me, Sammy," John ordered, aware that a hypothermic person could lower the body temperature of those next to him if they weren't carefully monitored.

"Yes, sir." Sam tightened his grip fractionally, clearly negating his words. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was terrified by the bluish tint that remained on Dean's skin. It made his brother appear to be dead.

But with Dean's back up against him, he was able to feel the older boy breathing and that comforted him like nothing else could. He was also close enough to hear the breath ghosting out of Dean's recovering lungs. Though it sounded painful at times, they were at least functioning again.

John, who was still shaking as well, shot a look over and caught Bobby's eye who glanced at the second bed before meeting his gaze again, looking uncomfortable but resigned. John shook his head.

"Don't even _think_ about it, Bobby. I'd rather freeze to death."

"Fine with me, ya stubborn bastard. I'd rather you froze to death too, trust me. At least take the comforter from the other bed. That shade of blue ain't really your color."

John glanced down at his hands and had to admit his skin _was_ tinted blue from the icy water. But Dean was much worse off, considering he was also cyanotic from temporary oxygen deprivation. John couldn't care less about his own state while Dean was suffering only a few feet away.

John's mind drifted off as his eyes locked onto his sons, playing out all the horrible outcomes that could have occurred had things gone a bit differently. He was startled out of his reverie when a heavy blanket was laid across his shoulders.

"Just take it, ya idjit," Bobby grumbled before pulling a chair over and taking up his post next to Dean's bed. "And stop playin' 'Worst Case Scenarios.' There's no need. The boys are right here, and they're both alive. That's all that matters now."

John sighed before softly stating, "I wish that were true, Bobby. But you and I _both_ know it's not."

TBC

Please keep those inspiring reviews coming!! I'm a bit on work overload right now, but I'll try to keep posting as frequently as I can!


	10. We've Gotta Talk

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

"The boys are right here, and they're both alive. That's all that matters now."

John sighed before softly stating, "I wish that were true, Bobby. But you and I _both_ know it's not."

Bobby glanced at the boys, then back up at the eldest Winchester. "Not here, John. Outside."

Dean was already drifting off now that he was safe and sound in his warm bed and completely exhausted, but Sam was still wide awake and Bobby didn't want him listening in on their conversation. Bobby already knew where it was headed, and he didn't like it one bit.

Both men stood and made their way to the front door. John turned back before following Bobby out.

"Sammy?" he whispered so as not to wake his eldest son. "Watch over Dean. We'll be right back, and if anythin' happens, we're right outside the door, okay? Just give a shout."

"Yes, sir," Sam whispered back before glancing down to make sure he hadn't disturbed his brother.

Dean's brow creased and he mumbled something inaudible.

"Shh… Just go to sleep, big brother. I'm watchin' over you."

Dean's face relaxed again and he burrowed further into his pillow before the darkness fully won out.

John stepped outside and closed the door with a heavy heart. This was a discussion he'd prefer to avoid if it were at all possible. Unfortunately, there was no choice so instead of postponing the inevitable, John jumped right in to get it over with.

"She's still out there, Bobby."

"Yeah, I figured as much. You and Sam didn't exactly have kill shots. She's wounded and pissed off, but I highly doubt she's dead. Dean say what happened down there?"

"Nah, he says he doesn't remember much."

"You believe 'im?"

"Not particularly, but there's not a lot we can do about it right now. I'll ask him again in the morning when he's feelin' better."

"Fair enough. Look, John… I hate to say it, but I can't believe she'd just let him go unless she got what she wanted."

John brought a weary hand up to massage his eyes, hoping it would help erase the horrible image in his head of what she could have done to Dean while they were under the water. "I really don't want to think about that right now, Bobby."

"Well I'm sure it's just lollipops and candy canes for _Dean_ to think about! You've gotta face facts, John, whether you like it or not."

John bristled instantly. "Don't tell me what I have to do, Bobby. Those are _my _boys sufferin' in there, alright?! I know what needs to be done and I'll handle it when I have to, understand?!"

"Don't go gettin' all pissy with _me_, John! I know exactly how you're feelin' right now cause that's how _I'm_ feelin' too and you damn well know it!"

John had the decency to look apologetic, though they both knew he'd never actually say he was sorry.

"I just don't get it. Why now? And why Dean?"

"I'd like to know why the hell she tracked you and the boys down again. Better yet, how did she even know about the boys in the first place?"

"I dunno, Bobby…" His lack of eye contact told Bobby otherwise. John paced away a few steps, before pivoting and walking back.

"Damn it, John. You better start spillin' right now before I spill your guts on the ground!"

"Alright! Christ… Look, I was off my game the night I met her."

"And by 'off your game' you mean _drunk_?"

"It was the five year anniversary of Mary's death. So yeah, I had a few. The boys were safe in a motel room a few miles away, so I took a stroll by the beach to clear my head before goin' back to them. That's when I saw her. And heard her…"

"And you fell for her song."

"Yeah. Most beautiful voice I've ever heard, aside from Mary's… Anyways, she played the sympathetic shoulder, askin' why I was out alone so late at night so I told her, not thinkin' anythin' of it. I'd never met a creature like her before. Next thing I knew, I was spillin' my guts about what I did for a living and about the boys.

"She had me up to my waist in the water before I realized what was goin' on and all I had on me was my gun, loaded with silver bullets. Back then, I just assumed the silver had worked and I thought I killed her cause she didn't resurface. Years later, after a lot of research, I realized my mistake and made specialized bullets just for her kind.

"Can't say I ever thought I'd find her again though. But to see her goin' after my son tonight… Damn it, that was _my_ fault, Bobby. I don't know how she figured out Dean was my kid, but she shouldn't have even known he existed. That one's on me."

"I'd have to consult my books to be sure, but if I'm rememberin' correctly, sirens are like bloodhounds. If you get too close, they get a taste of your aura, and it's for life. Dean's so much like you in every way, maybe she was able to make the connection once he got too close. Either it was pure luck she found him in the first place, or her senses are stronger than I gave them credit for. The second she knew you were a hunter, she had targets on Sam and Dean's backs."

"Once I sobered up, I made a new rule to try and keep my boys safe; we do what we do, and we shut up about it. Guess it was a little too late. If she really is still alive, she's never gonna quit till my boys are dead. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."

Bobby sighed deeply, then placed his hand on John's shoulder. "Yes, you do. And I'm afraid the Rusalka knows it too. That's the only scenario that makes any sense."

John shook his head in denial. "I won't do it, Bobby. I won't use Dean as bait after what he went through tonight."

"We'll try to find another option, but we both know there isn't one. She set this whole thing up. Traumatize Dean so he'd be afraid to go back to the water, but she knew your hunter instincts wouldn't allow her to escape again. She knows you'll have to use Dean and she's hopin' it'll break the both of you."

"She may be right on that one. I can't ask him to sacrifice himself again. It's just not fair. There's gotta be another way."

"She's gonna hide in the depths of that water unless we give her reason to show again. She ain't after me, and I think she's only after you indirectly. She may be tempted by Sam, but I doubt he'll be enough of a bargainin' chip for her. He's still too young. It's Dean or nothin'."

"Then we'll run, Bobby. I'll take them as far away from every body of water there is. I'll find some sort of protection medallion or spell… Anything!"

"You know I wish that would be enough, but Dean's not gonna be able to move on until he knows for a fact she's dead. Her existence will continue to haunt the kid. You really want that hangin' over his head for the rest of his life?"

"If that's what it takes to keep him alive."

"Well I think that's _his_ decision to make, don't you? I would never force him to confront her again if he couldn't handle it, but we've gotta tell him the truth. He needs to know she's still out there so tonight's incident doesn't happen again. If he wants to run and live with the fear, then so be it."

"So you're willin' to blindly play her game, is that it?"

Bobby glared. "You see another way out of this, you let me know."

John wanted to punch the door, but he didn't want to wake or scare his boys who were huddled inside. He wanted to shout every obscenity he could think of at the deceivingly peaceful looking water. He wanted to dive back into it, freezing temperatures be damned, and wring her pretty little neck with his own two hands. But it took all his willpower to keep his tears from falling.

"This isn't fair, Bobby."

"Life rarely is, John. All that matters is what you do with the time you're given. Come on. Let's go back inside before you catch pneumonia."

John shot one more loathing look out across the black water before silently following Bobby back into the room. He pulled a second chair from around the kitchen table and brought it over to Dean's side of the bed, right next to Bobby's. He saw that Dean was already asleep and Sam was fighting it but losing the battle.

"It's alright, Sammy," he whispered, smoothing the boy's bangs away from his eyes. "Get some sleep. We'll watch over Dean now."

Sam nestled his forehead against Dean's neck and fell asleep before John could even sit down. He put the back of his hand against his eldest's cheek and was glad to find that his skin was finally starting to warm up again. He settled back in his chair, making sure it was close enough to the bed that he could reach Dean.

"I'll take first watch, John. Get some sleep." Bobby took up his own chair to watch over the boys.

John nodded gratefully, then settled his palm protectively over Dean's heart to make sure it didn't falter during the night. He quickly fell into an uneasy sleep, plagued by dreams of Sarina and her twisted games.

Bobby woke John a few hours later, and they continued to switch up until the sun rose the next morning. Both men felt drained by the long night and endless worry, but sleepless nights were a part of the job.

"I'll go make some coffee," Bobby offered as he stood and stretched to fix the kinks in his back.

"Thanks, Bobby." John strode over to the front window and inched the shades over just enough to see the sparkling water down by the shore. On any normal circumstance, the beautiful sight would be welcomed in the early morning and it would offer a sense of peacefulness and tranquility. But now… Now it sent chills down his spine and filled him with pure hatred.

Sam was next to rise, rubbing his tired eyes and immediately checking on Dean. Then his eyes turned to John.

"Mornin', dad."

"Hey, Sammy. Did you sleep okay?"

"Better than I thought I would. Think Dean's alright now?"

"He stopped shiverin' at about three this mornin' so I'm sure he'll be sore as hell, but he should be outta the woods by now."

Sam nodded, unconsciously biting the inside of his lip. "Are we leavin' today?"

John dropped his eyes to the ground. "Probably not. We've still got some unfinished business to take care of here."

Sam looked confused, but before he could ask more questions, Dean began to stir. The other two Winchesters watched silently, unsure if he was waking up or just shifting in his sleep.

A grimace crossed Dean's face and he stilled, then his eyes cracked open. John smiled when their eyes met.

"Hey, buddy."

"Dad?" he croaked out, relieved to find he no longer stuttered with words.

"How're you feelin', Dean?" Sam asked and Dean craned his neck around to see his little brother hovering over his shoulder before frowning in thought. Surprisingly, he didn't feel too bad...

Dean attempted to sit up but the blissful ignorance his body had been experiencing received a sharp slap to the face as his muscles screamed in protest and he dropped bonelessly back to the mattress with a groan. "I'm good."

John snorted. "Yeah, that was real convincing, dude." He made his way over to the bed, checked Dean's temperature and pulse, then helped him slide carefully up into a sitting position against the back wall. "Want some coffee? Bobby's brewin' some in the kitchen."

"Hell yeah." At the rate he was going, he'd need a whole pot full.

"Comin' right up." John moved off to tell Bobby to make it three cups instead of two.

Dean let his eyes drift closed again to avoid Sam's calculating gaze.

"You look really pale, man."

Dean resorted to his typical way of dealing with painful and awkward situations… "Yeah, well… You try havin' some skeevy water wench gropin' you in twenty degree water. It ain't fun."

Sam jested back, knowing his brother needed the reprieve. "Huh. I figured you'd be into that sort of kinky stuff…"

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

John came back into the room carrying two mugs and was closely followed by Bobby who was sipping his own coffee.

"Here ya go, Sport. Drink slowly, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

John took up his seat again and watched Dean for a few seconds, judging whether he'd be up for their uncomfortable conversation yet or not. He sighed. Either way, it had to happen.

"Listen, Dean… We've gotta talk."

TBC

Sorry for the huge delay! I was in VT for an extended weekend and then I had some work to catch up with, but I'm back to writing now! Reviews always help, so please keep them coming, and I'll update again as soon as I can! Thanks for understanding!!


	11. Bait

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

"Listen, Dean… We've gotta talk."

Dean chose to play dumb, staring into his mug and clenching his hands around it to stop them from trembling. "'bout what?"

"You _know_ what, son."

Dean sighed, looking up at his father. "Can we just not do this right now? I'm not really up for…"

"I wish I could give you all the time in the world, kiddo, but I can't. We need to know if she's still out there, if she's stronger now cause she fed, and if that's the case, then we need to figure out how to gank her."

Dean glanced from anxious face to anxious face. He felt claustrophobic and like he was an animal on display at a zoo. He wasn't ready to deal with reality just yet. He wasn't ready to relive his recent nightmare. He just wanted them all to go away and give him some time alone to cope. But he knew his father was right. He couldn't be selfish now, not if more innocent people could be getting hurt.

"What do you remember, Dean?" John pushed gently.

Images began flooding through Dean's mind once again as he was forced to consider the question.

"I… It's all just a scrambled mess. I'm not sure what happened, okay? It was all so damn fast…" He was starting to get worked up, half of him wanting to help his father get the details for the hunt, and half of him wanting to bury the images as deeply as he could and leave them there forever.

"_Think_, Dean. Just try to put the puzzle back together."

Dean's head was starting to throb. He unconsciously brought a hand up to massage his temples, grimacing as bits and pieces of the night before flashed in front of his eyes. He didn't even notice, but he had started shaking again and it was getting harder to breathe.

"Dean?"

Bobby took a step forward, but John beat him to it. He pulled the mug from Dean's tight grasp and placed it on the bedside table, then reached a hand out, taking hold of his son's upper arm to try and steady him. This was going south, fast. "Dean! Come back to me, son!" He shook Dean's arm, hoping to pull him from the nightmarish loop he had fallen into.

Suddenly, Dean's eyes sprung open and he gasped, latching onto his father's upper left arm with bruising strength as a cold sweat spread over his body. "Dad, she's alive! She's still out there!"

John frowned in concern. "You're sure?"

"Yeah. I… I think I remember everythin' now."

John sat down on the edge of the bed to be closer to his son. "Good. That's good, Dean. Now… Walk me through it, one step at a time."

Dean shook his head looking terrified at the prospect. "Dad, I… I…" He looked like he was struggling for air.

"It's okay, bud. I'm not gonna let anythin' happen to you, understand? 'm right here. Just take a deep breath…"

Dean tried to do as he was told, drawing in a quick, shaky breath as his heart pounded in his chest. He blinked hard a few times, trying to clear his vision which was quickly clouding. He gasped, scrabbling his fingers against John's arm, trying to get purchase and alert his father to his plight.

"I… I can't!... Dad, I can't… breathe!... Dad, please… It hurts…!"

"Hey hey hey… Dean, I need you to focus, bud. Forget about last night. Just breathe…"

"Drownin'… again…" Dean's eyes went vacant as the excruciating memory of what it felt like to have his lungs flood with water came back to him, making his chest tighten and ache.

"You're not drowning, son. You're in the motel room. Breathe, buddy…" John placed his hand on Dean's chest, feeling the pounding heartbeat beneath his palm and the sharp gasps of air Dean was trying to pull in. John tapped the side of Dean's cheek, trying to snap him back to the present.

Sam looked just as panicked as his brother. "Dad? What's happening?! What did you do?!"

John forced himself to remain calm. "Bobby, can you take Sammy and go get us some brunch?" _We need some time alone here…_

Bobby glanced from Dean to John, wondering if this was really a good idea or not. Sam responded before he could decide.

"What? No! I'm not goin' anywhere! He's not ready to talk! Just leave him alone!"

"Sam, we don't have time for this!" John barked back. "Both of you, just clear out for a bit. He's havin' a panic attack and it ain't helpin' havin' so many people here watchin'!"

"Then _you _go!" Sam challenged back. "Haven't you done enough damage already?!"

"Sam…" Bobby warned, placing a restricting hand on the boy's shoulder.

"No, Bobby! Did you forget what happened _last_ time we left them alone together?! I'm not gonna make the same mistake twice!"

"Me _either_, Sam!" John challenged back. "I know we've got a lot to work out, but now really isn't the time!"

"Let's go, Sam," Bobby stated softly. "John's right. There're too many people in here right now and this little screamin' match ain't makin' things any easier. John, you calm him down before he passes out. If he's not ready to talk, then you better give him some time or I'll drag you down to the water and drown you myself, understand? Put your boy before the damn hunt for once. Come on, kid."

Bobby gently pulled Sam from the bed. "Put your shoes on."

"But, Bobby… I can help calm him down!"

"John can handle it just fine. Shoes, _now_. Or you're goin' in socks."

Sam glared but did as he was told, knowing Bobby would stay true to his threat if necessary.

"_Fix_ this, John. We'll be back in about an hour. Call if you need help." Bobby marched Sam out the door with a heavy hand clamped to the boy's shoulder. John was finally able to turn his full attention to his eldest now.

Dean didn't seem to register _any _of what had just happened. His hand was still clamped to John's bicep and his eyes were locked straight ahead, wide with fear. He was panting heavily as though he had run twenty miles.

John slid closer, putting both of his hands on Dean's shoulders. "Dean, can you hear me?" He gently shook the boy again, then tilted his chin up, trying to force eye contact. "Look at me, son."

Not even a twitch or a glint of recognition. John wrapped a strong hand around the back of Dean's neck and pulled him into his chest, cradling him like he had done just last night on the beach. He rocked him gently with his other arm locked across the boy's back. Occasionally, he ran his thumb over Dean's cheek, hoping it would help sooth him.

"It's okay, Dean. It's okay…"

After a minute or two of this, he felt Dean's left arm slowly move up to return the embrace. He grabbed a fistful of John's shirt and held on for dear life. And if the frequent hitches of his son's shoulders and the soft sniffles were anything to go by, Dean was also crying.

"Ah, hell, bud… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I know this ain't an easy topic, especially since it only just happened last night. Listen, if you're not up to this, we can wait a few more days…"

After a few seconds, Dean stiffened in his father's arms, collecting himself and preparing to soldier on like he knew John would want him to. He released his father's shirt and pulled back far enough to wipe his face dry with the backs of his hands.

"You know we can't wait, dad. Just ask your questions." His voice was passive, sounding dejected.

John felt like the biggest asshole on the planet, but he really didn't have a choice in the matter. "Alright. After I took my shot and she pulled you under the water, what happened?" He was careful this time to watch Dean's eyes, looking for any signs that he might start panicking again.

"Uh…" Dean closed his eyes tightly, trying to control the images this time around. "I went into shock. The water… It was so damn cold… I couldn't move… Couldn't get back to the surface… Then she grabbed me again and pulled me in deeper."

"Good, Dean. You're doing good…" John began rubbing up and down Dean's arm in comfort as well as to help stem the shivers coursing along the boy's spine and covering his body in goosebumps. "Then what happened?"

"I… I tried to break free." Dean's eyes opened to meet his father's. "I struggled, dad, I swear I did."

"I believe you, Dean. It's alright. Keep goin'…"

Dean took a deeper breath and let his eyes fall closed again. "Then she pulled me closer to her and… and she tried to feed."

John took his own steadying breath, not sure he wanted to continue either. But there was no stopping now. "Did she succeed, Dean?"

"No."

"You're positive?" He really didn't want to push Dean more than he had to, but he needed to make sure. "When we found you, your jeans were… They were undone, kiddo."

"I know. She tried, but I didn't let her. I kept pushing her away from me. It was so hard. My hands weren't cooperating anymore. I felt incredibly weak, but she was completely unaffected by the cold."

"I'm sure she's used to the freezing temperatures. She spends most of her time in the water."

"Yeah… I kept her off of me until she punched me in the stomach. I didn't have any air left. All my muscles were burnin'. It hurt so bad… I just wanted to give up. When I could focus again, her hands were back on my jeans. She… She said, 'Stop squirming, Dean. Just relax…'"

John felt like he was going to throw up as he remembered saying something very similar to that when he was trying to care for Dean and the boy had responded with unadulterated fear.

"I blacked out after that, but I could still hear her talkin'. She kissed me on the lips and said, "Say hi to daddy for me, handsome,' and then she pushed me towards the surface. I remember the feeling as I started risin' upwards and then… that's all." He opened his eyes again, looking to John for approval.

John smiled back. "Thank you, Dean. That's all I needed to know. You did good, buddy."

Dean beamed at his father's words, unconsciously pulling the sheets up higher on his body. It was just habit now. He hated feeling exposed.

"So now what?" he asked John.

"Now? We kill the bitch."

"How?"

"Don't you worry about it. Bobby and I'll come up with a plan." John didn't have the heart to tell his boy that they already had one.

But apparently, he didn't need to. "You need me for bait, don't you." It wasn't even a question.

John sighed. "Dean, I'm not gonna make you go…"

"I'll do it."

John stuttered to a halt. "Wh-what?"

"I'm not gonna let her get away, dad. Next time, she could go after Sammy. This ends now, with me."

TBC

Please review!


	12. Think, Sam!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

"So she's still out there, huh?" Sam questioned Bobby once he couldn't take the silence in the truck any longer. He dropped the second half of his blueberry muffin back into the take out bag, too anxious to be hungry anymore. "That's the unfinished business dad was talking about earlier?"

"'fraid so."

"Does he know how to kill her?"

"We've got a few ideas. It'll take some research, but her time's comin' to an end. Don't you worry."

"No wonder Dean was so freaked. There's no way he's gonna be able to face her again. We'll have to figure out how to finish this ourselves. Maybe he should go stay with Pastor Jim till this is all over."

Bobby sighed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel slightly. _If only that were an option at this point…_Too bad Sam had been trained to read body language.

"What is it, Uncle Bobby? What aren't you tellin' me?"

Bobby looked at the boy surprised, but then reasoned that he should have seen that coming. The Winchester boys were very perceptive, and wise beyond their years. "Look, Sam… No one wants to keep Dean safe more than me and your daddy. But our hands are kinda tied on this one. We're gonna need his help."

Sam looked outraged. "You mean you need him for bait… You're gonna _use _him?! Bobby, how could you even _think _of askin' him to do that after what he's been through?!"

"We don't have a choice, son. She has all of our scents now, and she ain't gonna resurface unless she senses Dean on the shore. We won't be far though, and as soon as we've got a clear shot, we're takin' it. With any luck, she won't get anywhere near him this time."

Sam sank down in his seat and turned his gaze out the passenger side window. Basically, he was sulking. "Not good enough. I won't let him do it. There's gotta be another way." _Think, Sam! Think!_

"Finish your breakfast, Sam. We'll be back at the motel in about five minutes."

**********

"Okay, let me get this straight… You want me to seduce a _seductress_? I mean, I'm good and all, dad, but I don't know if I'm _that _good," Dean stated incredulously after hearing his father's basic plan of attack.

"Not so much _seduce_ as let yourself be put under her spell again. We already know she is … _interested_ in you, Dean." Dean scoffed at his father's choice of words, knowing the man was trying to tread carefully. "We just need you to distract her long enough for us to take her out."

"And how long will that be?"

"No longer than it has to, I promise you that."

Dean dropped his gaze, scuffing his foot against the old floorboards in thought as he sat on the very edge of his bed to face his father.

"You sure you're up for this, kiddo?" John asked softly, needing to know if his son could handle the task he was appointed. If he couldn't, it could quickly turn into a life or death situation.

Dean glanced back up at his father. "No… but what choice do I have? Please tell me you've got backup plans for every scenario? We can't afford to let her get away again."

"I know, and I'm workin' on it."

Dean nodded, not at all happy with the scenarios going through _his _head.

John sighed. "Alright, Bobby and Sam should be back any minute now. Why don't you let me change out your bandages, and then you can go get dressed. Breakfast will be here when you're all set."

"Yes, sir."

"Can you get the sweatshirt off, or do you need some help?"

"I got it."

Dean clenched his jaw and only let out a small grunt of pain as his muscles protested the movement, but he managed without any assistance. His hand went instantly to his injured side though, easing the pull of the stitches holding his wound together.

John propped a few pillows behind Dean and told him to sit back against the headboard. Then he retrieved the first aid kit and sat on the bed next to his son's hip. "Your shoulder seems to be healin' just fine," he offered up lamely as a notch for the plus side.

"Yeah, doesn't even hurt. That chick has some seriously long nails though. It's disturbing."

"How about your side? Your ribs ache at all?"

Dean winced when John put pressure along the bruised area surrounding the wound. "I won't be doin' jumpin' jacks anytime soon, but I've had worse. Doesn't feel like anythin's broken." Dean paused, biting his lower lip in thought, before continuing. "Dad?"

"Mhm?" John was carefully peeling the bloodied bandage away from the stitches now.

"Thanks for takin' the shot. I know you were afraid you'd hit me too…"

"I _did _hit you too." Dean could hear the self-recrimination and guilt in his father's voice.

"It's okay, dad. I _asked_ you to shoot me, remember?" Dean smirked, trying to ease the awkward tension in the room a bit. John checked to make sure his son hadn't pulled any stitches during the night, then began cleaning the injury with an alcohol swab.

Dean hissed at the first contact, then pushed the burning sensation from his mind and focused instead on his father's words.

"I had a clear shot the moment she moved to face Sammy. I should have taken it right then and there, but I hesitated. I was hopin' someone had a better angle for a kill shot. I shouldn't have second guessed it. The bullet wouldn't have been anywhere near you otherwise."

"Hey, I'm just grateful as hell you didn't shoot through my shoulder. Cause _that_ would've sucked. _Big_ time."

"Maybe, but if I had, she'd probably be dead right now and you wouldn't have had to suffer as much in her hands." John blushed and looked apologetic when he realized what he had just said.

Dean chuckled, trying to act like it didn't phase him. "Ah, the hands… You know, all things considered, she wasn't the _worst _I've ever had."

"And that's the end of _that _conversation," John quickly cut in, but he couldn't keep a small smirk from crossing his own lips. As he carefully pressed a fresh bandage over Dean's side and taped it in place, they heard the coded knock on the door announcing the return of the others.

"All set, Dean. Go change up. Yell if you need anythin'."

Dean nodded, grabbed some fresh clothes from his duffle, and headed into the bathroom.

Bobby entered first with the bags of food followed closely by a fuming Sam. John recognized the look immediately. "You _told_ him, didn't you?" he asked accusingly, turning his gaze back to Bobby.

"More like he guessed…"

"Where's Dean?" Sam demanded, eyes scanning the room methodically.

"He's in the bathroom, gettin' ready."

"You can't let him _do_ this, dad! She'll destroy him!"

"We've already talked it over and he's agreed. End of discussion, Sam. Don't make this any harder than it has to be. Bobby, you and I need to talk in the kitchen. Wait here, Sammy."

Sam crossed his arms and sat heavily on Dean's bed, waiting for his brother to get out of the bathroom so he could tell him how stupid this idea was going to be. There just had to be another way…

Bobby followed John into the kitchen area and Sam could hear them conversing in whispered tones. He knew they were working out the backup plans in case something went wrong, like if she dragged Dean into the depths of the water again and didn't let him go this time… The thought alone sent shivers up Sam's spine.

He saw his brother's jacket lying on the ground where he had left it the night before. He grabbed it and pulled it on, desperate to make the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach go away. There was that comforting smell again; leather, gun oil, and something unique to his brother… Dean. It smelled like Dean.

Then it hit Sam like a punch. He knew exactly what he needed to do. He just hoped to hell it would work. He stood up, grabbed his gun from his bag, tiptoed to the front door, eased it open, and slipped out silently, shutting the door behind him.

Dean stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, dressed and _almost_ mentally prepared for what he'd have to do. He heard his father and Bobby talking in the kitchen and made his way to the room's entrance.

"How's the plotting coming along?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Slowly, but we're gettin' there," Bobby grumbled back, trying to sound reassuring. "How you feelin', kid?"

_Like I'm standin' at the gates of hell, and instead of walkin' away, we're bargin' through the freakin' front door… _"'m good."

"Sure you are…" Bobby sounded skeptical.

Dean quickly changed the subject. "Hey, dad?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"What if I can't break her spell this time around?"

"Don't worry about that. You will. But in the off chance that you might not, you've got me and Bobby as backup. She's not gonna get you again, understand? I won't let that happen."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks."

"You ready to go?" John asked, watching his son carefully to gauge his true feelings, regardless of how the boy replied.

"Just gotta grab my jacket…" Dean peered back around the corner and into the bedroom, eyes scanning for said article. He couldn't find it. "Any idea where it ended up?" he questioned, glancing back at the men in the kitchen.

"Sammy was wearing it last," John informed him. "I think he left it beside the bed."

"It's not there. Uh, guys…? Where _is _Sammy?"

John quirked an eyebrow. "What are you talkin' about? He's sittin' on the bed."

"No… No, he's not."

All three of them put two and two together and they didn't like what it added up to.

"Damn it!" John barked as he and Bobby stood abruptly, gathering the weapons they had been planning to use when ready. "I'm gonna kill that kid…"

Bobby looked at the man gravely. "Not if Sarina gets to him first."

TBC

Please review! If you have any requests for the Winchester's second round with Sarina, just let me know and I'll see what I can do! Plenty more angst and action to come.


	13. Had to be Done

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Sam made his way quickly to the edge of the surf, looking around to make sure no one else was by the beach. He was both relieved and terrified to find he was completely alone; nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat pounding wildly in his ears. He held his gun tightly behind his back and waited, unsure of how he was going to get her to surface.

He waited for three minutes before his nerves started to get the better of him. He kept glancing backwards, making sure the others weren't running out of their motel room to kick his ass just yet. On one of these particular occasions, he heard rippling in the water behind him and froze.

"I was hoping you'd come back to play, Deano," a soft voice floated over the surface of the water behind him, sending chills down his spine. Sam held his breath, eyes locked on the motel room door, knowing it wouldn't take long for her to figure out he wasn't his brother. He was right.

"Well this is unexpected… Little Sammy Winchester, trying to catch me in a trap?"

Sam slowly turned his head back towards the water, his heart sinking into his stomach as soon as his eyes verified what his ears had already told him; Sarina was standing directly behind him, less than three inches away. He stumbled back a few steps in surprise.

"N-no, that's not it. I came alone. I want to make a deal with you."

Sarina glanced up and down the beach just as Sam had done, verifying that the boy was indeed telling the truth. "Oh, this is just _adorable_!" she crowed in delight. "Let me guess, you want to take your big brother's place, is that it?"

"I'll do whatever it takes for you to leave him alone. You've hurt him enough."

"My dear boy, it was never my intent to hurt your brother. It's your _father_ who needed to be punished. Dean is just… a means to an end. It's just a perk he happens to be so damn handsome." She smirked as she recalled their last intimate encounter.

Sam held back a growl. "You got what you wanted, okay? My dad was a mess for what you did to Dean. Take the win and stay away from my family."

She took a threatening step closer. "Or _what_ exactly?"

"Or I'll give you a new hole that will put you down permanently." He drew his gun swiftly, aiming at her heart.

It unnerved Sam to no end that she didn't even flinch. In fact, she seemed perfectly at ease, making him wonder if he had severely miscalculated the situation. Apparently, she knew something he didn't.

"Sweetie, you don't want to do that." Her eyes flashed and her soft voice seemed to echo through his head, confusing him.

"I… I don't?"

"No, baby. Children shouldn't play with guns. Toss it into the sand before you hurt yourself."

Sam tried to fight her words, but his arm responded against his will and tossed the gun a few feet away.

"That's a good boy. Now why don't you come on over here and give Sarina a nice big hug?"

Sam started shuffling forward, desperately trying to run in the opposite direction. He was startled to a halt when another voice cut through the air.

"Sammy! Get away from her!"

_Dean…_

He glanced over his shoulder to see his big brother stumbling over the uneven earth in his rush to get to the shoreline.

"There's our knight in shinning armor!" A slimy arm wrapped tightly around the youngest Winchester's neck before he could move another inch. "I don't think so, Sammy Boy. You're staying right here with me." Just like that, the spell was lifted off of Sam and his hands immediately rose to grip her arm in defense.

Dean slid to a stop a few feet away when he saw that she had his brother in a headlock. He held his arms out in surrender. "Whoa whoa whoa! Don't hurt him!"

John and Bobby were a few steps behind, not as fast as Dean these days, but equally as pissed off.

"Stop right there!" she shouted to the men who froze immediately, unwilling to press their luck when Sam's life was at stake. "Move back up the beach or I'll snap his neck in half."

She turned her focus back onto Dean who also took half a step backwards, following her orders. "Not you, sweetheart. You can stay right where you are."

Dean glanced back at his father and Bobby, taking care to keep her in his periphery as he watched the two older men reluctantly fall back. They did, however, keep their guns trained on the Rusalka. Either she wasn't strong enough to put them all under her power, or she didn't find them to be a big enough threat to bother.

"This must be my lucky day. Two handsome Winchester boys willing to do as I command, and daddy Winchester, in the best seat in the house to watch the show."

Dean ignored her words. "Let Sammy go. We both know he's too young for you."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that. He's what…? Eleven? Twelve? I've had younger." She smiled cruelly, turning Dean's stomach and allowing his anger to take over his deep-seated fear.

"Hey, if you want to try your luck on a little kid, that's your problem. I just assumed you'd want to finish the job you started since you failed so spectacularly last time. But if you're too afraid to take on someone your own size…"

"Are you _baiting_ me, Dean?" She sounded incredulous, yet amused.

Dean forced himself to shrug nonchalantly. "Just sayin'… If you don't think you can handle me without your little love potion, I can understand why you'd go for the easier mark."

She considered his words for a moment, then made her decision. "Take off your shirt, Dean."

Dean frowned, taken aback by the sudden order. "What?"

"You heard me. Do it now, or no deal."

"Aren't you gonna buy me a drink first?"

"Don't do it, Dean!" Sam shouted, terrified that he was responsible for putting his brother in this position once again. "Just run! Don't let her…!"

"Silence!" Sarina barked, tightening her grip on Sam's throat till his voice was cut off.

"Stop it!" Dean shouted back angrily as Sam choked and clawed feebly at her forearm. "I'm not goin' anywhere, so ease up on him!"

"Shirt first," she demanded, unaffected by Sam's desperate struggles.

"Dean…" John warned from a safe distance, alerting his son to the fact that he didn't have an open shot yet.

Dean knew he didn't have a choice. He gritted his teeth and carefully pulled his shirt off over his head, dropping it to the sand by his feet. He held his hands out to his sides, trying to ignore the sudden chill he felt against his skin and in his gut. "Satisfied?"

"Arms behind your head and turn 'round."

"What, are you arrestin' me or somethin'? Got a set of handcuffs I should know about?"

"He's running out of air, Dean. I advise you to act quickly."

"Al_right_!" He bit his tongue as he forced his arms up behind his head, fighting to block out the pain in his side as the stitches were pulled taut in his skin. Feeling like a piece of meat dangling from a hook, he then turned so that his back was facing her, his entire body tensing as soon as she was out of his view.

Sarina licked her lips hungrily at the sight of Dean's tanned, muscular back and flexed arms. She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. "Not too bright coming out here unarmed, handsome. Let me guess, Sammy didn't tell you he was planning to visit, did he?"

Now Dean understood her request. She was making sure he didn't have any weapons hidden on his person. He just hoped she didn't make him prove it any further, or she might find the silver dagger stained with dead man's blood hidden against his ankle. It wouldn't be enough to kill her, but it would certainly slow her down.

"Not so much. Probably thought I'd get jealous seein' as how you and I had such a special bonding moment last night… Can I put my arms down now?"

"No, but you can turn back around. I must admit I'm enjoying the show."

"Well, that makes _one_ of us," Dean grumbled as he turned back around, locking eyes with his little brother, hoping to give him some comfort.

Sarina eased her chokehold on Sam like she promised and he gasped in a few ragged breaths.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean checked automatically.

"Y-yeah," Sam stuttered out through a quivering jaw as the lightheaded feeling began to ebb. He had fought against plenty of supernatural baddies since his father began training him, but never in his short life had he gotten this close to one or felt so helpless against it. Not to mention he was terrified for his brother.

"On your knees," Sarina commanded Dean, giving Sam a rough shake when the older brother's defiant eyes found hers.

Holding the eye contact, Dean dropped heavily to his knees in the sand, ignoring the jarring that went straight through the abused muscles in his body, left over from the painful spasms of hypothermia.

"Now what? You want me to do the hokey pokey?"

"Tempting… But no. _Now_ little Sammy gets to join in the fun."

Dean looked stricken. "What? No!" He started to lower his arms, preparing to spring forward and protect his brother at all costs.

"Down boy." She quickly pulled Sam back a step, making sure they were safely out of Dean's reach. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Dean. I'm just saying he has a part to play in our little game."

"If you hurt him, I swear to god…" Dean spat.

"I wouldn't dream of hurting my loyal guard puppy. That would be counter productive."

With a seductive smile aimed at Dean, she bent low enough to put her lips by Sam's ear and whispered soft commands no one else could catch. Dean's eyes narrowed as he watched the fight leave his brother and a glazed look came over his face.

"Don't listen to her, Sammy!" he shouted out in warning, but it was too late. Sam would only listen to Sarina now.

She turned to the two men, waiting nearby to annihilate her as soon as the opportunity presented itself. "Either throw your guns in the water, or Sammy goes for a swim."

"Can't do that," John called her bluff, tightening his grip around the trigger. The moment she let Sam go, she was dead.

"Fine. I guess we'll be going now then," she smirked and started walking backwards towards the water with Sam following obediently, oblivious to the danger he was in.

"Dad!" Dean shouted in anger once Sam had taken two steps into the water. "Do what she says!"

John and Bobby exchanged meaningful looks before coming to a mutual understanding. They reluctantly tossed their guns as she requested.

"Good choice." Sarina refocused her attention on Sam, kissing the boy on the cheek before releasing him, knowing full-well he was back under her control again. Everyone watched in confusion as Sam walked over to his discarded gun, picked it up, and aimed it at John who immediately raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Sammy, no!" Dean shouted, terrified that his brother might actually pull the trigger, with or without the Rusalka's influence. The boy made no move to suggest that he heard the plea. Knowing it was hopeless to try and break Sam out of the spell, Dean turned his desperation to Sarina. "Please! Don't. Don't make him do this."

Sarina sauntered up to Dean and put her hands on her knees so they were face to face. "Be a good boy, and no one else needs to get hurt, got it? Sam's just here to make sure the big boys don't try to interfere."

Dean gulped as her close proximity made him feel queasy. "With _what_, exactly?" He leaned as far back as he could to keep her out of his personal space. So what if he looked like a terrified virgin on prom night? If anything, the big, frightened puppy dog eyes might work in his favor.

She leaned forward as well, maintaining the short distance between them. "I'm still hungry, baby. I let you go last time as a courtesy cause you're no use to me dead. Now I think it's time you returned the favor." She reached one hand up and caressed the side of his face.

Dean swallowed back the bile that was creeping up his throat. He wanted nothing more than to pull away from that icy touch, but he knew he had to play his part if any of them were going to survive. "You're right. Fair is fair."

Her fingers skimmed softly over his jaw line, then down to his broad chest. "Daddy's got you on one hell of a work out plan, doesn't he?" she purred.

"It pays to stay in shape," he grunted, trying desperately to ignore her sensual touch. "_Usually_…" he added under his breath.

"Well I am certainly not complaining…" She traced each abdominal muscle, enjoying how his skin trembled beneath her hand. Without warning, she latched onto his wrists, which were still up by his head, and lunged forward, instantly knocking him off balance and pinning him to the ground with her own weight.

"Oof!" The air was knocked out of his lungs as she threw her whole weight on top of him. Thank god the sand wasn't concrete or he would have one hell of a headache right now.

She continued talking, completely unfazed by their sudden change in position. "You know, I don't think you fully appreciate the situation, Deano."

"Enlighten me then," he grunted out between painful coughs, hoping she hadn't broken any of his ribs when he hit the sand.

"You hear a lot of things through the grapevine. For instance, I've been told that someone's already got a reserve on little Sammy. I'm not stupid enough to tangle with the bigwigs, so I was never going to harm a hair on that boy's head. But I counted on you playing the hero, and as no one has put a claim on _your_ head yet, you're all mine, baby."

"Lucky me… Wait, what do you mean someone's got a res…?"

"Shhh…" She placed a cold finger against his lips, cutting him off. "Less talking, more action."

John had seen enough and decided to try his luck with Sam, unable to just stand there and watch her take advantage of his eldest once again. He took two steps forward before ducking and covering as a warning shot flew past his head.

"John, no!" Bobby grabbed the man's arm, pulling him back slowly until he was at a safe distance again.

"I had to _try_, Bobby!" John growled, feeling as though he needed to defend his actions.

"If you had waited a few more seconds, I would've been doin' the same thing," Bobby admitted, barely controlled anger lacing his words. "But I don't think you're on Sam's top ten list right now, so don't force his hand."

"I promised Dean. I promised him I wouldn't let her get him again."

"Dad?!" Dean tried to sit up when he heard the shot, scared as hell that he might see his father lying dead in the sand, but Sarina placed a strong hand on his chest and pushed him back down. The other hand locked tightly on his chin and forced him to face her.

She glanced over at John, making sure he was watching as she smiled wickedly and clamped her lips over Dean's, sliding the hand that was on his chest down to his sculpted hip.

John snarled, clenching his hands into fists as he imagined wrapping them around her throat.

"Don't watch, John," Bobby stated, catching John's attention.

"How can I possibly ignore what sh…!"

"_Think_, ya idjit! She's puttin' this show on for _you_! If you're not lookin', she won't get as much pleasure out of it! Now turn the hell around!"

John sighed, frustrated, but had to admit Bobby's plan made sense. He just hoped Dean didn't pay for this little stunt.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath as her mouth descended onto his. Her grip on his chin was tight enough to bruise and it didn't feel like she was going to let up anytime soon. She bit his lower lip, drawing it into her own mouth, then lapping gently across it when it started to bleed.

The bite burned like fire, but her tongue felt like ice and Dean unintentionally let out a small groan at the mixed sensations which he quickly stifled. She broke the kiss, allowing him to draw in air. He panted harshly as his lungs protested the assault.

Sarina laughed cruelly. "Don't hold it in, handsome. I want to hear you. It's not a sin to express your feelings…" She descended on him once again, kissing her way down his neck and peppering soft kisses across his chest. His hands curled into fists behind his head and he set his jaw, trying to think of anything other than how amazing her lips felt against his skin.

She knew she was affecting him and she was enjoying it immensely. Her hand slid up from his hip and the other came down to mirror it, caressing his sides and he gasped, jerking sideways when she brushed against his wound. Unwilling to waste the opportunity, she plunged her tongue into the warm cavern of his now opened mouth and began exploring, making him want to gag.

She pressed her knuckles into his injured side and his hips bucked involuntarily off the ground. Sarina pulled back a few inches and saw the lust deep within his wide, green eyes. "Pain turns you on, huh? I can work with that…"

Dean wanted to scream for his dad to help him, for someone to shoot her before she took her explorations any further… But he was aware that he was on his own now, and he knew what needed to be done. He just hoped to hell that he'd make it through this in one piece.

TBC

Please review! This chapter goes out to MysteryMadchen who has patiently been waiting for a little hurt!Sammy. Hope this chapter satisfies your craving a bit, hun! Plenty more angst and pain ahead for everyone. Any particular requests before I start wrapping this one up?


	14. Submit

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Sarina licked a burning path down the center of Dean's chest until she reached his navel. She nipped at the skin just above his low-riding jeans, glancing up his body to see the inner turmoil on the boy's face as he squirmed. It was clear he wanted to resist her seduction, but she wasn't related to the succubae for nothing.

The heat from his skin was intoxicating to Sarina. She needed more. She took hold of a corner of the bandage on his side and began peeling it off slowly. Dean quickly lifted his head to see what she was doing. The fear in his eyes turned her on more than ever.

Once the bandage was fully removed, she saw that the wound had begun to bleed again due to her harsh treatment a few moments ago. The blood trickled slowly down his side and towards his back. It was too tempting to resist.

He watched in horror as her tongue darted out to lap at the escaping blood before she sealed her mouth over the wound, sucking gently as though drinking from a juice box.

His gasp quickly turned into a whimper. It wasn't so much from the pain, but from how close he was to losing what little control he still had. The icy sensation against the graze was easing the burn that had been there ever since his father had pulled the trigger. He was starting to feel lightheaded and his skin tingled.

"Shit…" Bobby mumbled, making John whirl back around against his better judgment, needing to know what was going on behind his back. He felt his anger rise when he realized what was happening.

"Damn it, Bobby, she's feeding off of him!"

"I can see that, John," he growled back, feeling as helpless as the man standing next to him.

"Why isn't he fightin' back?" The disappointment in John's voice was enough to make Bobby want to punch him.

"You mean like how _you_ fought back when _you _first met her? She ain't no ordinary gal, and Dean… Well, he's Dean. What did you expect him to do?"

"I dunno, _something_!"

"It's too late, John. He's not in control anymore."

"We have to stop this!"

"You got any ideas, feel free to share."

John sighed in frustration. "Well, we can't get to Dean unless we take Sammy out first."

"I've noticed, but we can't get close enough to Sam without him pullin' that trigger."

"Diversionary tactics. If we split up, he can't keep the gun trained on both of us. Take the left."

"Just don't do anythin' stupid, John…" Bobby warned, knowing all of their lives would be at stake if they screwed this up. He started circling to the left as John branched off to the right.

Sarina moaned in delight as she fed, becoming stronger by the second as she weakened Dean. He felt the vibrations against his skin and dropped his head back to the sand, squeezing his eyes shut against her ministrations. _No no no no no! Stay in control, you idiot!_

John spared his eldest son another glance, then returned his focus to his youngest. "Somethin's not right here, Bobby."

"Gee… Where do I start?" Bobby scoffed back, inching another step closer to Sam.

"I'm serious! Look at Dean's eyes. He's not under her control like Sam. And he's terrified of her. No way would he give in that easily." And then it clicked. "He's gotta be playin' an angle, Bobby. We've got to buy him some time." _Atta boy, Dean…_

Sarina slid back up Dean's chest, letting her hair tickle his skin as she went, until they were face to face again. She waited until he opened his eyes, then descended towards the boy's lips for another go, and this time he met her halfway, deepening the kiss himself. Her eyes widened in surprise at first, but then she smiled wickedly. Clearly, she had won.

Dean had to force his stomach not to revolt when he tasted his own blood on her lips. His disgust helped to shake him out of the stupor he had fallen into and reminded him of his plan. Like the Striga, Rusalkas were most vulnerable when they were feeding. Though the thought terrified him, he had to let her take what she wanted. He knew he would be weakened in the process, but he'd have to hang on and pray that the others would be able to stop her for good.

As she started pulling back again, he tried to move his hands out from underneath his head, but she gripped his wrists tightly, preventing them from moving. _Damn it…_

"What do you think you're doing, Dean?" she asked softly against his cheek before moving forward and catching his earlobe between her teeth.

Dean swallowed hard. "Just… Just wanted to hold you is all."

"Is that so?" She rocked her hips against his slowly while trying to read his face for any underlying deception.

Unable to verbally respond without making a sound he would regret, he settled for nodding his head, then waited with bated breath for her acquiescence.

She ran her hands gently over his exposed sides again, debating her options. He shivered beneath her touch and bit his bottom lip. She liked having him so defenseless, but she knew it would torture John even more if she allowed Dean to let his lust take over. "Okay, but one wrong move, and daddy gets a new hole in his head, courtesy of Sammy."

Sarina glanced over to the two men to rub her success in John's face and felt her anger rise at the fact that both men were trying to outsmart the youngest Winchester rather than paying attention to her antics.

"You're cheating, Johnny!" she called across the sand. "And you know I don't like cheaters." John ignored her, keeping his focus on Sam instead.

The boy kept swinging the gun back and forth between Bobby and his father, warning them both back, but as one froze, the other continued to advance. They were closer, but not quite close enough to take the gun from Sam yet.

Sarina rolled her eyes. "Sammy, be a dear and shoot your fa…"

Dean reached up quickly and pulled Sarina's face back towards his, controlling his disgust and fear enough to give her the most passionate kiss he could muster. She was tense at first, unsure if she wanted to take her eyes off of John just yet, but when Dean deepened the kiss, she suddenly didn't give a damn what the father was up to. She only had eyes for Dean.

While returning the kiss, her hands moved south over his abs until she found the top of his jeans and curled her fingers around the waistband of the fabric, pulling him flush against her. He gasped, breaking the kiss, and when she looked into his beautiful green eyes, all she could see was lust. Of course, that was only because that's what Dean wanted her to see. After all, he was very skilled at burying his emotions.

As he stared into her glassy brown eyes, he could see his father and Bobby in the background, working to distract Sam. If they could get control of the gun, then he'd know they were all safe and he'd be able to initiate the second half of his plan. But until that happened, he'd have to keep her preoccupied.

"Are you trying to distract me, Dean, or did you really miss me?" she purred, peppering his neck with soft kisses and following them with painful nips that she soothed with her icy tongue.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen…" Dean forced out as his heart began pounding in his chest. Her fingers were now undoing his jeans with practiced ease.

"Baby, you're in for a treat." As her hand started sliding underneath his boxers, he grasped her wrist tightly.

"Wait!"

"For what exactly?" She sounded annoyed now.

"I… I'm better on top." With more strength than he realized he had left, Dean flipped their positions, pinning her beneath himself.

She was surprised, but even more excited now. "Love a man who takes control."

"Yeah?" He was kneeling above her, trying to keep his dad's position in his periphery.

"Oh, yeah…" She reached up, took hold of his hips, and pulled him down so they were flush against each other again.

He grinded against her pelvis as his hand reached up to cup her left breast. He leant forward and captured her lips with his own again, distracting her as he slowly reached his right hand back towards his ankle.

She was trying to slide his jeans down his waist, but he kept his knees spread far enough that the fabric was too tight. She settled for sliding her hands up and down his clothed thighs.

He could feel her feeding off of his lust once again. Just a few more inches till his knife was within reach… Bingo!

"You know, normally I don't risk letting my dinner go when I'm still hungry. I had every intention of drowning you while your father suffered on the beach, but I knew you'd be worth the wait, handsome…"

Dean smirked. "Yeah, well… You should've killed me when you had the chance, bitch."

John threw himself forward, tackling Sammy to the ground and wrestling the gun from him. The boy let off another shot in surprise, capturing Sarina's attention.

Without wasting time, Dean pulled the knife from his boot and plunged it into her chest. All his mixed emotions that he had been bottling up since this whole mess started fueled his strength and he rammed the weapon in all the way to the hilt, panting with the relief from finally having her hands off of him.

Sarina let out a blood-curdling scream as the knife tore into her icy flesh. Needless to say, she was furious at having been duped by the Winchesters yet again. Enough was enough. Playtime was over now.

As Sam continued to struggle against his father's weight, John was forced to knock him out with a well-placed sucker punch. "Sorry, Sammy." He patted the boy gently on the back and turned Sam's gun onto the Rusalka.

Once he knew the situation had been handled, Bobby splashed out into the water to retrieve their discarded weapons so that they could help Dean, but he wasn't quite fast enough.

Sarina reached up, furiously, and wrapped her clawed hand around Dean's throat, squeezing as tightly as she could. Luckily for Dean, she was weakened by all the injuries she had sustained at his family's hands. However, that just brought her supernatural strength down a few notches, placing it just above normal for a human being. And with Dean's own injuries, he lacked the strength to break her grip.

"I could have made this good for both of us, Dean, but you had to go and piss me off, didn't you? I am going to feed, baby, with or without your consent."

She kept one hand around his throat and with the other, she slammed a fist into his stomach, knocking the wind forcefully from his lungs again. He was starting to see black spots and feel dizzy.

She easily flipped them over so that she was back on top, then pulled the knife from her chest and held it to Dean's throat. With her other hand, she started pulling at the boy's jeans, desperate to get at the prize hidden beneath them.

"No…" Dean croaked out, trying to push her hands away again, but she pressed the knife deeper into his neck, piercing the skin.

"No more protests, handsome. Just submit."

TBC

Sorry for the massive delay! My muse was on strike for a while and I've been incredibly busy, but hopefully, I'm back in action now! Please review, and I will definitely try to get the next chapter up faster than I posted this one! Thanks for understanding.


	15. The Guilt of Surrender

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Dean's breath hitched when he felt the knife pierce his skin. He hoped to hell he wouldn't get any supernatural blood diseases from the mixing of their DNA. Unfortunately at this point, that was the least of his problems because Sarina had started to sing.

"Damn it… Cover your ears, John!" Bobby barked as he was forced to drop the guns once again in order to try and keep her voice from having an effect on him. John mirrored him instinctively, but the effort was fruitless. She was just too powerful.

Both men stood slowly like drones and made their way to Sarina's side, desperate to win her approval. In her soft voice, Bobby heard the off-tune humming of his wife, Karen. For John, it was Mary's beautiful rendition of "Hey Jude" that she sang to Dean when he couldn't sleep.

Then the voice was telling the men that Dean was causing himself harm and needed to be restrained before he hurt himself more. Naturally, they were all too eager to protect the boy.

Bobby pinned Dean's right arm up by his head, placing his other hand comfortingly on the kid's shoulder. John held Dean's left hand in the same way, using his right to stroke through Dean's hair.

"Take it easy, kiddo. It's gonna be alright," John stated in a soothing voice to calm his boy.

"Dad, wait! No! Guys, what are you doin'?! Let go of me! Bobby, please!" Dean shouted, trying to break their grips and snap them out of their trances.

"Just relax, son. We won't let anythin' happen to ya." Bobby squeezed his shoulder gently and smiled down at Dean.

"That's more like it!" Sarina practically squealed. "A little teamwork can go a long way, boys. Now, to business!"

"Please, don't make them do this! I'll cooperate, I swear! Just let them go!" Dean begged, knowing how devastated the men would be once they came back to their senses and realized what they had done.

"Sorry, baby, but you had your chance to play fairly. Besides, stabbing a girl in the heart kind of hurts her feelings. You're all out of bargaining chips, and I'm all out of patience."

Her knee slipped in between Dean's thighs mid struggle and she slowly rocked against him, varying the pressure.

Dean was shaking now. It seemed his plan to distract her only made things worse for everyone involved. If she was going to successfully feed off of him, he didn't want to survive it. He wasn't going to be another victim, used and discarded. If he had been the only one to know about it, he could have dealt with taking the horrible secret to his grave. But to have everyone he loves witness it? Hell, _participate _in it? That he couldn't bear.

Try as he might to ignore the fluttering feeling in his stomach, there was no denying that her skills were having an effect on him. This had to be the most humiliating thing he's ever endured.

She was kissing across his chest again and running her hands over his abdomen, moving them lower by the second.

"It's all gonna be okay, bud." John winked down at him as Dean looked into his father's eyes, pleading silently for help. John's only response was to pat Dean on the head.

That was it then. No more help to be had. As her hand slid back towards his boxers, he was unable to thwart her. He squeezed his eyes shut, a lone tear falling past his temple, and he clenched his jaw tightly.

When her cold, slimy fingers found their mark, she let out an appreciative groan and Dean mentally checked out of the building.

"That's it, handsome. Don't fight it…"

Sarina was already drawing energy from his forced aroused state and Dean felt as though he were sinking through the sand into oblivion. His head was swimming and his vision was darkening. He wouldn't fight the darkness this time. In fact, he welcomed it with open arms. He surrendered.

He had retreated so far into his own mind that he almost didn't hear the gunshot. He did, however, feel the weight on his hips lurch sideways before disappearing completely. Dean was so lethargic and weak now that he was barely conscious, but he managed to force his eyes open to tiny slits.

He wasn't sure he wanted to see what was happening. He was tempted to just return to his safe place where none of this had ever happened, but as the saying goes… curiosity killed the cat.

At first, his eyes were assaulted by the bright rays of light above him; a stark contrast to the darkness he was pulling himself out of. Dean turned his head sideways, and could have sworn he saw an angel kneeling in the sand a few yards away. A small, moppy-haired angel… holding a gun.

_Sammy…?_

The little energy Dean was clinging to quickly abandoned him, plunging him fully into the darkness he craved.

**********

Sam had woken from his punch-induced nap to the horror that was taking place before him. Somehow, the evil temptress managed to recruit his father and Bobby, and they had his brother pinned to the ground, completely defenseless.

Fire blazed in Sam's eyes as he shook off the throbbing pain in his head emanating from his left cheekbone. Glancing around, he saw his gun laying a few feet away where John had dropped it earlier.

He slinked across the sand like a jungle cat, taking care not to alert his prey of his presence. Seconds after his fingers found purchase, he sent one of John's special bullets straight through the center of Sarina's forehead. He watched in satisfaction as she froze like time had stopped, then slumped sideways to crumple in the sand before disintegrating into ash and blowing away on the breeze.

Sam might fight and complain that hunting wasn't his destiny, but no one could argue that he was damn good at it, thanks to Dean… Dean, who had taught him to shoot in the first place. Dean, who used what little spending cash they had to reward his little brother with a snack from the motel's vending machine when Sam bullseyed every target…

Dean, who was squinting at him with a confused and disoriented look on his face. Sam finally lowered the gun back to his side, then watched as his brother passed out.

**********

Once the life had fully drained out of Sarina, her spell was broken and John and Bobby came back to their senses.

"Oh god…" Bobby released Dean's wrist immediately and jumped to his feet before scrambling a few feet away and vomiting violently into the surf.

"Dean…?" John whispered as his heart shattered into a million pieces. What had he done? He swore he'd keep his son safe this time around, but he had failed. He reached out a shaky hand and laid it against Dean's throat, praying to whoever was listening that his boy was still alive.

He let out a sob of relief when he felt the thready pulse beneath his fingers. He quickly slid out of his own coat and draped it around his eldest's bare chest, then pulled the boy's limp torso carefully into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo. I should've just taken you boys and ran when I had the chance." He kissed Dean's spiky hair before leaning his cheek against the side of the boy's head.

**********

Sam dropped the gun to the sand, still in his kneeling position. He wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure this is what it meant to be in shock. He wanted to go to his brother's side, he wanted to push John away and tell him to never go near Dean after the hell he had put him through lately. He wanted to _move_, but his muscles wouldn't respond.

When Bobby had control of his stomach again, his eyes fell on the guilt-ridden father cradling his unconscious son before floating across the sand to check on the youngest Winchester; the one who had saved them all from a terrible fate.

The boy was frozen stiff, barely even blinking. Bobby silently made his way over to Sam, but the kid didn't seem to notice he was there.

"Sam? You still with us son?" he tried, tentatively.

Finally, Sam managed to turn his head enough to lock tear-stained eyes with the older man. "Why?" he whispered. Just one word had so many different questions behind it; Why did this happen? Why Dean? Why did you help her? Why was _I_ the one that had to pull the trigger? Why do bad things happen to good people?

"I dunno, kid." It was all Bobby could say. No words of comfort that hadn't been said already. No false promises that would backfire on him further down the line. No philosophical wisdom to share when his own mind was blank and filled with buzzing. Okay, so maybe Bobby was a bit in shock too.

Bobby dropped to his knees beside the boy and waited, unsure of what else he should be doing. About a minute later, Sam had his arms wrapped around the man's neck and was sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. For now, Sam was willing to overlook his anger at the men, in desperate need to be comforted. Bobby patted him on the back, holding onto the boy for dear life. He didn't ever want to let go.

No one knew how much time had passed while the small group sat there in the sand, but the sun had begun to set and the winds were picking up before any of them had enough strength to make it back to the motel. John carried Dean in his arms, refusing to let anyone else assist.

The whole group was subdued once they were safely back in the room. Nobody spoke as they waited anxiously for Dean to wake up again. John cleaned and rebandaged the wound in the boy's side, then reluctantly poured holy water over the new cut in Dean's neck.

Steam rose quickly as the liquid combined with Sarina's blood and Dean's forehead bunched in pain as his head turned from side to side, trying to escape the acidic burning. However, he remained unconscious through the process.

John removed Dean's boots and switched his jeans for sweatpants again rather than trying to refasten them around his hips.

Without asking for help, Sam quietly cared for his own injury, filling a facecloth with what was left of their ice from earlier and holding it tentatively against his throbbing cheek. He was hoping to control the swelling before it impeded his vision.

All three onlookers sat by Dean's bed anxiously, waiting for him to come back to them. Sam curled up next to his brother's side on the bed, and though he wanted nothing more than to throw a protective arm around Dean and help guide him back to the light, he kept his hands to himself so as not to alarm his brother needlessly.

He wished he could be furious at his father and Bobby for aiding Sarina, but he knew he couldn't. Not after being put under her spell himself and nearly blowing John's head off… twice. He'd never understand how Dean was the only one strong enough to break the trance. In his mind, Dean was strong enough to do _anything_ he set his mind to. Plain and simple. Now if only he chose to wake up…

Bobby studied the floor, wondering if he should even be in that room right now considering what he had been forced to do, but no one had asked him to leave yet. The guilt was overwhelming, and he knew it wouldn't be any easier for the eldest Winchester.

John dropped his face into his hands, wondering how things could have gotten so screwed up so quickly. Why was it always the boys who had to pay the price for his mistakes? He made a vow then and there; once Sam and Dean were old enough to take care of themselves and each other without guidance, he would hit the road to keep them safe. He just prayed that they'd live that long.

TBC

Please review! Sorry this chapter was a bit shorter than usual, but I wasn't sure where to stretch it out! Finally heading towards the end of the story now. I'm guesstimating maybe three chapters left? So if there's anything in particular you'd still like to see, now's the time to say it! Thanks again for your continued support and reviews!


	16. Tears on My Pillow

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Arguing. Dean recognized it at once, though his mind was so foggy, he couldn't understand the words clearly. But he knew the voices. Sam and Dad were at it again…

He needed to get up. He needed to put a stop to their bickering. It was instinct, and to be quite honest, their raised voices were making his head throb.

"What the hell were you thinkin', Sam?! _Never _go after a supernatural being without a plan! That's how people get hurt! You could have gotten killed! You could have gotten your _brother _killed!"

_Alright, that's it… Come on, Dean. Wake the hell up. You've gotta stop this before someone goes too far…_

"_Me_?! You're the one who told her about us in the first place! You were the one that was going to use Dean as bait! And _you're _the one who held him down while she…!" Sam broke off, sending a tortured look his brother's way.

_No, Sammy. Please don't talk about that right now. I can't. _

"…while she 'hurt' him," Sam finished in a lowered voice as though trying to protect Dean from hearing it, even though he thought his brother was still unconscious.

"Well if you had stayed in here like we'd planned, then we could have gotten Dean out safely! But instead, Bobby and I had to dodge _your_ bullets! And I didn't see _you _puttin' up much resistance to her spell!"

_I can't do this right now, guys. Please, just drop it…_

Dean wanted to shout, to punch something, to wave a huge flag and yell "I'm right here, people!" but the best he could do was get one finger to twitch. Whatever Sarina did to him left him feeling completely drained and hung over. He didn't even have the strength to open his eyes.

"At least I didn't participate in torturing Dean! If it wasn't for me, you two would still be holdin' him down and lettin' her have her way with him! _I _killed her, remember?!"

"Yeah, cause I knocked you out first to break her spell!"

_Please stop fighting… _And then the darkness consumed Dean again.

**********

Dean had no idea how much time had passed before he clawed his way back up to consciousness again, but he knew immediately what had brought him back from the brink.

The arguing had stopped, leaving the room peacefully quiet and seemingly empty, but someone was leaning against Dean's shoulder and small hands were wrapped around his bicep. That someone was crying, and the soft moppy hair against Dean's bare shoulder left no doubt in his mind who that someone was.

_Ah, Sammy… Don't cry, kiddo._

"P-please wake up, Dean. I n-need my b-big brother. I'm so s-sorry I messed everythin' up. I d-didn't want you gettin' hurt again. I sh-should've known better though. You never let me outta your s-sight for long. Of course you were g-gonna be the first to come save my ass once you f-figured out I was g-gone… This is all my f-fault."

_Don't think like that, little brother. I get why you did it, and I appreciate the thought. 's not your fault, ya hear me? _

…_Course he doesn't, idiot. You're not actually speakin' out loud. Wake up, damn it!_

Dean focused all his energy on trying to move his arm to give Sam a sign that he was with him. It took longer than he had hoped, but eventually he managed to flex his bicep a bit. It wasn't much, but it got Sam's attention. The boy sat up, looking down at his big brother with hopeful eyes.

"Dean? You in there, man?"

'_m here, Sammy. Where else would I be?_

"Can you open your eyes? Dad said it'll take time for you to regain your energy after a Rusalka attack."

_Where _is_ Dad? And Bobby?_

"He just went to grab some lunch. Uncle Bobby went with him. I think they just needed to get out for a bit."

_How long has it been since…?_

"You've got to wake up, man. You've been out for two days now. Things have been pretty ugly without you steppin' in."

_Two days?! Holy shit… I'm sorry, Sammy. I've been tryin', I swear. I just feel so damn exhausted…_

"Not that I'm blamin' you or anything, cause I'm not! Hell, you're the only one innocent in this whole mess. How did you break her spell, Dean? I tried, but I couldn't do it. The only reason I was able to shoot her was cause Dad clocked me one across the cheek…"

_What?! He hit you? Seems to be makin' it a habit these days…_

"I guess being unconscious means she can't control you anymore. But you… You were still awake. How did you do it?"

_I dunno, man. I guess I just couldn't let anythin' happen to you guys. Knowin' you were in danger gave me strength I never would have had otherwise. It's not like I'm some sort of…_

"It's like you're some sort of superhero or somethin'. Big brother always comes to the rescue… Thanks for that, Dean. I hope you can hear me, cause I'm not repeating this while you're conscious enough to kick my ass for this monster chick flick moment."

_I can hear ya, dude. But no way in hell am I gonna admit to that when I've got my strength back again. This whole situation is humiliatin' enough!_

Sam fell silent for a few minutes, then tried shaking Dean's shoulder gently. "Dean?"

_Yeah, Sammy?_

"I love you, big brother."

…_I love you too. Gotta sleep again, bro. I'll see ya soon, promise._

This time, Sam actually felt his brother's presence leave him. He laid his head back down on Dean's shoulder. He had never felt so alone.

**********

Meanwhile, John and Bobby were heading back to the motel with the bags of take out. Over the past two days, they hadn't said much of anything to each other. What is there to say after you assist in torturing a child you both love? It's not exactly an event you can just shrug off and move past.

They didn't blame each other, but they were both racked with guilt. Until Dean was awake and on the mend, they were stuck in this silent rut of pain. And no one wanted to even entertain the possibility that Dean _wouldn't_ wake up at all. That scenario was simply unacceptable.

Once they reached the motel and gave the coded knock, John set about his daily check of Dean; heart rate, breathing, pupils, bandages, and the occasional sensory or hearing test to see if he was responsive. This time, he tried gripping Dean's hand.

"Hey, buddy. It's dad. If you can hear me, squeeze my hand." John had tried this particular test five times since he had carried Dean into the motel, and each time, the boy didn't so much as twitch.

John was beginning to lose hope. That is, until he felt the slight pressure of Dean's fingers against the back of his hand. The boy had been pulled out of his darkness once again by his father's deep voice.

"Dean? Come on, son. We're all waitin' here for ya. Open your eyes."

_I… I can't, dad. I'm sorry._

John waited impatiently for a few tense moments, then sighed in disappointment. He had been so sure that Dean was finally starting to come around. Must have been wishful thinking… He leaned down and kissed Dean's forehead.

"Okay, buddy. We'll do this on _your_ terms. Come back to us when you're ready, ya hear me? We'll be here when ya do."

Dean felt his father pat his shoulder, then heard him stand when the chair scraped across the old floorboards.

_Damn it. I've gotta pull myself out of this! They need me! But then they'll start askin' questions… I'm not ready for that yet. Please don't hate me for being selfish on this one, guys…_

He retreated once more into painless unconsciousness.

**********

The next time Dean felt himself being pulled to the surface, he seemed a bit stronger. He knew he had the strength to open his eyes if he wanted to, but he chose to stay hidden, not quite ready to face the rest of the world just yet. So he laid there, motionless, and let Bobby's voice float over him.

"Hey, kid. It's been three days now. You can't stay out much longer without feedin' tubes and catheters if that's any incentive to wake your ass up. Look, what happened that day… You know we would've stopped if we could, right? We underestimated her, and for that I am so damn sorry.

"I know you need some alone time to process everythin', but if that's the only reason you're still out of it, I can promise you that we'll give you the space you need until you're ready. But you've gotta wake up, son. We'll get you through this any way we can. Just don't give up, alright?"

_Enough is enough, Dean. Time to face the music._

"Wouldn't dream of it, Bobby," he croaked out through rusty vocal cords. He cracked his eyes open and blinked repeatedly as they were met with the bright light of morning.

"Dean? 'bout damn time, boy! How're you feelin'?"

"Tired."

"Understandable. Stay with me, kid. Let me go get John. He's been waitin' anxiously for you to return from your beauty sleep…" Bobby stood quickly and headed for the door.

"Wait!" Dean forced himself up onto his elbows as Bobby returned to the side of his bed. "Bobby, I…" _I'm freakin' out, I can't deal with all this shit right now, I can't be around you guys, I'm sorry for everythin'… _"I don't blame you. For any of it. So stop beatin' yourself up, alright?"

Bobby's eyes misted over and he swallowed hard, then nodded with a half-hearted smile. He patted Dean's knee affectionately. "Thanks."

Dean nodded back, then cleared his throat. "So, uh… Where's Dad? And Sammy?"

"Oh, right! Gotta get John… They're next door in the room I rented gettin' some shut eye. There just ain't enough room for all of us in here, especially with you hoggin' one of the beds. Be right back. Stay awake, ya hear?"

"'kay."

Dean watched Bobby hustle out of the room, then heard the knock one room down and muffled voices. He groaned as he forced his stiff muscles to respond and levered himself into a sitting position against the headboard.

His entire body protested, but he was done being weak in front of his family. They needed him, and they needed things to get back to normal so they could move past all the crap that had happened. It was time to man up.

Sam was the first through the front door and he launched himself across the room and onto Dean's bed. "I _knew _you were gonna wake up soon! Are you feelin' better? Do you need anythin'?"

Dean chuckled at his brother's excitement. "Whoa, slow down there, Sammy. Dad gave you coffee, didn't he?"

John stepped into the room before Sam could answer. "Like I'd make _that _mistake again. Last time he was bouncin' off the walls for two days straight before he crashed. How're ya feelin', Dean?"

"I'm good," he answered automatically. "Just a little stiff… and sore."

"I can imagine. You've been in that bed for three days." Though he said it in an off-handed tone, the haunted look in his eyes proved to Dean just how long those three days were for the others. He dropped his eyes to the sheet pooled at his waist.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Don't apologize, son. I'm actually amazed you're already awake. We did some research while you were out, and found one other survivor from a Rusalka attack. He didn't wake up for almost two weeks."

"How'd you know it was a Rusalka attack?"

"Well, the article said it was a bad case of pneumonia, but the evidence lines up. He told his wife about the strange enchantress by the beach. Everyone assumed he was just delusional."

"Bet _that_ put a dent in their marriage…"

"Never had the chance. His body was found floating in the water a few days after he woke up. Rusalkas can be persistent bitches."

"I've noticed. Sarina… She's dead, right?"

"Yeah. Sammy took her out."

"Nice one, dude. Looks like you got your first hunt after all, kiddo. Thanks for savin' my ass."

Sam smiled feebly before dropping his eyes to the bed sheets. "You wouldn't have needed the savin' if it wasn't for me. Sorry, Dean."

"I know you were just tryin' to help, man. Water under the bridge."

John moved to the side of his son's bed, trying to come up with the best way to approach the uncomfortable topic. He remembered how his son had reacted last time they tried to talk, and he didn't want to risk putting him through the same panic.

His boy was in a fragile state of mind, and who could blame him? "Look, Dean… I think we should talk about what happened. A lot of bad shit went down that day, and I need you to know that…"

Dean cut him off quickly. "It's okay, dad. I know what happened and I'm good with it. Seriously. There's nothin' to talk about."

"You've gotta understand, the Rusalka's powers of persuasion are…"

"Dad! Just stop, okay? I was there too, remember? I know she can be damn convincing, and I know you and Bobby wouldn't have… done that without her influence. We don't have to have a massive chick flick moment about this, alright? We've all been through worse than havin' a hot chick take advantage of us. You guys are alive and safe… _I'm _alive and safe… Sarina's dead… All in all, I'd say it was a successful hunt."

John narrowed his eyes, trying to read any deception coming from his eldest. Had he really come to terms with everything that quickly? This boy had to be the most well-adjusted kid on the planet…

"Can we get you anythin' then? Advil? Water? Food?"

Dean squirmed a bit under his father's calculating gaze. He had to get away from everyone before his walls started crumbling. "No thanks. Not really hungry."

John's quirked eyebrow was like a slap to the back of Dean's head. He should be starving right now! He hadn't eaten in three days! He had to switch topics, and fast, if he was going to avoid suspicion. "I _could_ use a shower though. I still feel like I'm covered in sand."

"You just woke up, Dean. I'm not sure you should be gettin' outta bed so soon."

"I'll make it quick, promise. Please, dad."

John could see the desperation in Dean's eyes and had no choice but to relent. "Alright, fine. But don't lock the door and call if you need help, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

John helped Dean get out of bed and braced his elbow all the way to the bathroom door. Dean had to admit his legs felt like jelly, but he just wanted to be left alone and every second he was being babied made him that much more irritable. By the time he closed the bathroom door behind him, he was fighting the urge to smash his fist through the mirror.

He had no idea where this anger was coming from, but he was grateful there was a door separating him from the concerned and pitying faces on the other side. At last, he was alone.

Images assaulted his memory as he tried to clear his head.

He quickly stripped off the sweatshirt and pants someone must have put on him while he was unconscious, then turned the shower on as hot as it would go. He needed to cleanse his body, not realizing that the feeling of being sullied wasn't physical, but mental.

Sarina… Whispering in his ear, biting his lip, undulating against his flesh…

Even as the scalding water burned his skin, he could still feel her icy hands all over his body and it made him want to throw up. He grabbed the soap and started scrubbing at his chest, his arms, and his thighs until the skin was painful and red. No matter what he did, he just couldn't feel clean again.

Her moans of delight filled his ears as his father winked down at him in comfort. "No more protests, handsome. Just submit."

Tears of frustration were mixing with the water droplets on his face and he had no other option but to admit defeat. He sank to the floor of the tub and pulled his knees in tightly to his chest, burying his face and his weakness behind them, hoping to muffle the sobs so no one else would know. He lost track of the time, but he was still crying when the water turned cold.

TBC

Please review! Sorry I couldn't get this out for Easter weekend for you, Kay! I had a version written in time, but I wasn't satisfied with it. So after a serious revamp, I hope you liked this update! And thanks, VooDoo Doll13, for all your suggestions! I hope I did them justice. Your review helped my muse a lot!


	17. Pain In My Heart

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Sam knocked timidly on the bathroom door, but Dean was so caught up in his misery that his little brother was halfway across the room before it registered that he wasn't alone anymore.

"Dean? Dad says time's up. You've gotta get back in bed before you… Dean?"

Sam had just realized that instead of Dean's usual humming of classic rock songs, muffled sobs were emanating from behind the tattered and stained shower curtain.

When Sam reluctantly slid the cloth to the side, his brother's state was enough to crush his heart to a pulp.

Dean quickly turned his face towards the wall, hoping to hide his tears from Sam, though the effort was pointless. Between the terrifying memories and the freezing water streaming over his huddled body, he couldn't stop shaking and his ragged breathing was making his already damaged lungs throb.

"Dean? Hey…"

Sam reached out a tentative hand towards his brother but the second the icy water touched his skin, he pulled back with a surprised gasp. Snapping into protective mode, he quickly turned the water off and grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it tightly around Dean's shivering shoulders.

Trying to offer comfort, Sam rested his hand over the back of Dean's neck, but the elder Winchester winced underneath his touch, increasing Sam's worry tenfold. The angry red patches of skin scattered over Dean's arms didn't help either.

"What's wrong, man? Did you hurt yourself?"

Dean rolled his head against his knees in a negative gesture as he concentrated on trying to get his breathing back under control.

Sam could feel his brother shaking beneath his touch and used his other hand to rub gently at Dean's towel-clad bicep.

"Jesus, Dean… you're freezing! Can you stand up?"

"D-don't… w-wanna," Dean forced through chattering teeth.

"Well if you stay in there, you're gonna get sick."

"D-don't c-care."

And that earned the patented Sammy bitch face. "Come on, bro. Talk to me. Are you in pain? Do you need some meds?"

"N-no. Jus' w-wanna be alone."

"Can't do that, bro. Sorry."

Dean's frustration was building again and it was taking everything he had not to direct it at his innocent little brother. "Go, S-Sammy. I'll b-be out in a m-minute."

"Let me help you."

"Just _leave_, Sam!" Dean spat, picking up his head and shooting daggers at his brother.

Sam glared right back, defiantly. "Fine, you don't want to talk to _me_, I'll go get Dad."

Dean paled instantly as his anger turned to fear. When Sam started to rise to his feet, Dean threw out an arm and latched onto his brother's wrist. "No! Sammy, d-don't. Please!"

"Why not?" Sam quirked an eyebrow at his brother's reaction.

"He c-can't know, okay? P-please don't t-tell him, Sammy. P-please…"

Fresh tears were sliding down Dean's cheeks now, giving Sam an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness. He sat down on the side of the tub. "Okay. I won't say anythin', but you've gotta tell me what's goin' on, alright? Are you afraid of Dad cause of what he did? Want me to keep him away from you till you're ready?"

"N-no, it's not that…"

"What then? Sarina?"

Dean's eyes glazed over and he turned his face back to the wall, releasing his brother's wrist in favor of wrapping his arms back around his legs. Sam sighed.

"That's it, isn't it. You havin' flashbacks or somethin'?"

Again, no response. Seeing his brother so broken destroyed any misgivings Sam had had over killing Sarina. In fact, he wished he had given her a more drawn out and painful death. The bullet to the head was too good for her.

Sam draped a second towel over the hard floor right next to the tub. "Come on, Dean. Let's get you out of there."

"Not c-clean yet," Dean mumbled blankly.

"Not clean…? You've been in here for half an hour, dude. Look at me, man…" Sam gently jostled his brother's shoulder, trying to get him to focus.

When Dean finally turned his head back towards Sam, his eyes were filled with a desperate need for his little brother to understand. "I t-tried, Sammy. St-still in my sk-skin… T-tried to rub it out, but st-still not clean."

He loosened his grip around his knees enough to lean back a little, revealing his attempts at scrubbing his chest and thighs raw. Sam's jaw fell open.

"God, Dean… What did you do?"

Painfully deep scratches marred his body; some deep enough to bleed.

"I'm sorry, man, but I've gotta get Dad on this one. Just sit tight and…" Sam made it to the door before a heavy thud sounded behind him. He whirled to find Dean sprawled on the hard floor, frantically trying to get his stiff limbs to respond, but he just kept slipping on the second towel Sam had placed in front of the tub.

"Dean, stop!"

"Don't g-go, Sammy! You c-can't tell him! P-promise me!" Dean held a hand out towards his brother, wishing he was close enough to grab hold of him again.

Tears were blurring Dean's vision once more and he was ready to abandon all hope- just curl into a ball and stop caring about what the rest of the world thought and did. But then a small hand latched onto his outstretched one, and he was anchored to reality once more.

"I'm right here, Dean, and I'm not leavin' you, okay?" Sam helped his brother sit up against the side of the tub, secured the towel across Dean's back again, then sank down next to him, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

Dean continued to shake violently, but he didn't try to push his brother away.

"Jeez, Dean… How long have you been sittin' under the cold water?"

"D-dunno."

"Crappy motels…" Sam grumbled under his breath.

He gently pulled Dean towards him until his head was resting on Sam's shoulder. "I've got you, man. Just take it easy." He rested his bruised cheek against Dean's wet, spiky hair, ignoring the throbbing pain that flared through the side of his face at the contact.

A loud knock on the door startled them both. Dean sat bolt upright, staring fearfully at the doorknob as though expecting it to turn. "Boys? You alright in there? Sounded like someone fell…"

Sam glanced at Dean's face and saw the unadulterated panic in his eyes. "We're fine, Dad," he quickly answered back. "I just slipped on a towel helpin' Dean out of the shower."

"You need some help with him?"

Dean turned to Sam, revealing the desperation in his eyes for the second time since he had woken up. _Please don't let him come in, Sammy, please…_

"I've got it, Dad. We'll be out in a bit."

"Alright. Make it quick, though. Dean's gotta eat somethin' soon."

"Okay."

Both boys breathed a sigh of relief when John's footsteps faded away from the door.

"Your secret is safe with me, Dean. Promise."

Dean let his head fall back onto Sam's shoulder, feeling completely exhausted once again. Sam tightened his grip around his brother, wishing there was something more he could do to help him.

They stayed like that for a few minutes until Dean finally stopped shaking. They sat in total silence, apart from Dean's occasional hitches of breath and soft sniffles. This was the first- and hopefully the last- time that he allowed himself to appear vulnerable in front of his little brother.

Though Sam wanted nothing more than to hold onto this major chick flick moment forever, he knew if his father had to come check on them again, John wouldn't settle for Sam's reassurances. He'd want to see Dean with his own two eyes.

"Come on, big brother. We've gotta get you dressed and back in bed before Dad comes knockin' again."

Dean nodded against Sam's shoulder before slowly sitting back up. He forcefully wiped his eyes with a corner of the towel, then dried the rest of his face. _Pull yourself together for Christ's sake! __**You're**__ supposed to be the big brother in this relationship!_

Sam sent Dean a furtive glance to make sure he was okay before standing and retrieving his brother's clean clothes from the bathroom counter. When he returned, he stood awkwardly in front of Dean, full-willing to help but unsure how to go about it without making things uncomfortable.

Dean glanced up at his brother, then dropped his gaze to the floor and tightened the towel around his shoulders. "Just put them on the floor, Sammy. I've got it."

"You sure? Cause I can…"

"'m good, man. Thanks."

"No problem." Sam did as he was told, then turned his back to Dean to give his brother a bit more privacy while he got dressed.

Dean rose shakily to his feet, using the walls and tub to steady himself. Once Sam's back was turned, he dropped the towel to the floor. As Dean carefully pulled his clothes over his tattered and raw skin, he also pulled his game face back on. _Emotional meltdown officially over._

While Sam waited, he decided to try and get some answers from his brother once more. "So… You wanna tell me happened in here, Dean?"

Dean cleared his throat, trying to erase all evidence of his previous weakness. "Nothin', dude. Just been a long few days is all. 'm just tired."

Sam turned back to face his brother when the rustling of clothes ended.

"Stop it, man. Just stop. I know you better than anyone. You can't always be invincible, Dean. Sometimes you've gotta take a step back from the edge."

Dean took a deep breath to reply, winced as his abused lungs protested, then let it out slowly to ease the pain. Sam didn't miss the grimace that crossed his brother's face.

"You should really talk to Dad, Dean."

"No." Dean's icy glare made Sam want to move back a few steps, but he stood his ground.

"But, Dean! He should know that you're…"

"What, huh? Pathetic? Weak? A poor excuse for bait let alone a hunter? I'm sure he already knows that, Sam."

The youngest Winchester let out a tortured sigh. "You know that's not true, Dean. You're the toughest guy I know, and an amazing hunter too. I was _gonna_ say he should know that you're not ready to deal with everythin' that's happened just yet."

There was a pregnant pause in which both brothers tried to stare the other down. Sam could see his brother building his walls back up, and all Dean could see was the bruise on Sammy's cheek. _I should have been there to protect him. _

Dean broke the silence first.

"C'mere, kiddo."

Sam closed the small gap between them, giving Dean a questioning look as he did so.

Dean reached over and gently took hold of his brother's chin, angling Sam's face towards the light so he could get a good look at the dark bruise surrounding his cheekbone. Dean winced in sympathy. "Looks like Dad got you good."

Sam rolled his eyes, carefully encircled his brother's wrist, then pulled out of his grip. "He got us _both _good," he grumbled, sparing a glance to Dean's own fading shiner, "and don't change the subject."

Dean instantly played dumb. "What subject?"

Sam frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. "Why did you pretend you were okay earlier? Why didn't you just tell them the truth instead of hiding it? No one expects you to be fine after what you went through."

Now it was Dean's turn to sigh in frustration. "Dude, you're like a dog with a bone, you know that? I did it cause no one's gonna be able to get past this if they all think I need to be coddled. It'll just make things more awkward than they already are, and that ain't helpin' anybody. I needed time to deal with it myself, and that's exactly what I did. End of story. Movin' on."

"You know, you keep pilin' all this stuff up, and one day, you're gonna explode."

"Yeah, well… There are worse ways to go." The empty look in Dean's eyes made Sam question his brother's intent.

"Dean… You're gonna get past this, right? You're gonna be okay?"

Dean's jaw twitched minutely, then he forced a feeble half-smirk onto his face. "Of course I'm gonna be okay, dude. I think your uber chick flick moment healed me."

"Dean, I'm serious!"

"Look, Sammy… We've been through worse, right? Sometimes it takes a little while to heal, but we always pull through in the end. This time is no different. I may avoid the water for the rest of my life… but I promise I'm gonna be just fine, okay?"

"Swear on the Impala."

"What?!"

"Do it, Dean."

Dean chuckled and shook his head in disbelief at his little brother's audacity. "Fine. I swear on the Impala. Are we good now?"

Sam smiled broadly. "Yeah, Dean. We're good." He closed the small gap between them and wrapped his arms around his brother's chest. Dean returned the hug, patting his little brother comfortingly on the back.

Another knock, much louder than the first, came from the bathroom door. "Boys! You comin' out of there today or what?"

Dean took one last calming breath, then responded. "Yeah, Dad. We're comin'."

TBC

Please review! I'm running out of ideas for this story, so I think we're drawing to a close. Maybe one or two more chapters to wrap things up, unless you guys have something else you want to squeeze in before the end! If you have any requests, feel free to let me know!


	18. Caused By You

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

Leaning a good portion of his weight on his little brother, Dean made it back into the bedroom where John was waiting anxiously.

"You good, Dean?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine. Sorry I took so long. Not used to feelin' so weak."

Sam shot Dean a threatening glare at his choice of words, having caught the double meaning behind them. Dean ignored him, choosing to keep his attention focused on his father instead.

John's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. "I expected as much. Ready for some chow?"

Dean's stomach flipped at the thought. He really just wanted to be left alone right now.

"Actually… I'm more exhausted then hungry. I think I'll try gettin' some more shuteye first if that's okay."

John frowned. "You really should eat, Dean."

"I know, Dad, and I will. Just… Not right now."

John looked to Sam quickly, seeing if there was another side to the story he should know about, but Sam was careful not to give anything away that would betray his brother's trust. He did promise after all.

John nodded, caving to his son's wishes against his better judgment. "Alright, then. Why don't you take my bed till we get yours changed up. I'll wake you in a few hours and we'll get some food into ya. No more excuses at that point, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

The anxious father kept a close eye on his boys in case they needed his help as Sam maneuvered Dean into John's bed, but they managed just fine on their own. He smiled inwardly. _How did they grow up so fast? _

The proud feeling quickly faded to a deep sadness. _Won't be long till they won't need me around anymore._ _Then I'll hit the road and hopefully they'll be safer without me. God, please don't let them hate me for it…_

Dean curled up on his left side, keeping his back to the wall. He took the bed's second pillow and hugged it to his chest, building a safety cocoon around himself under the guise of simply trying to get comfortable. Sammy wasn't fooled.

The youngest Winchester made his way to Dean's bed and retrieved his brother's favorite knife. "Here, Dean."

Dean glanced up and smiled in relief. He slid the knife under his dad's pillow and wrapped his hand around the hilt for security. "Thanks, Sammy."

Sam smiled. "Get some rest, man."

Dean nodded, but had absolutely no intentions of falling asleep. Unfortunately, his exhausted and abused body had other plans, but a restful sleep just wasn't in the poor kid's cards.

It didn't take long for Dean to start tossing and turning, mumbling threats under his breath one second and pleading the next. He had death grips on both his knife and his pillow, but they were useless weapons against nightmares.

He felt trapped, unable to move. He fought against the restraining sheets like he had fought against Bobby and his father on the beach. He could see Sarina hovering over him, smirking smugly. She had him right where she wanted him, and there was no escape. He just wasn't strong enough.

"Dean?"

A soothing voice floated through his head, causing a frown of confusion to cross his tormented face. The image before him was flickering as his mind tried to process the new tone.

"You're okay, Dean. Time to wake up now."

It was no longer Sarina standing over him now, but someone much bigger, more muscular, and more foreboding.

A strong hand encircled his left wrist, pinning it to the sand beneath his head. Horrible deja vu twisted the boy's gut.

Dean sat bolt upright with a strangled cry of fear and found himself tightly engulfed by one of the same muscular arms and held steady against the same broad chest that had been in his nightmare. He was so scared he couldn't breathe.

"No! Lemme go!"

He tried to pull back from the restrictive grip, but the arm only tightened around him more, effectively preventing any more struggling.

"Easy, kiddo! It's okay! It's just me. Take it easy…"

"D-dad?"

"Yeah, bud. That was quite the dream you were havin' there. You alright?"

Dean's heart was still thudding painfully hard in his chest and he was covered in sweat. His drowsy mind was still trying to make sense of everything. He thought he had been back at the beach… But he's in a bed? Where was everyone else? Was he safe now? Were the otherssafe?

"Where? What…? Dad?"

John loosened his grip and pulled back just enough to look into his son's terrified and confused eyes. He frowned in concern. "Take a second and think it through, son. It'll come back to ya."

Instead of processing, Dean looked down at his trapped wrist and practically whimpered. John still had his arm pinned to the mattress.

"Please, don't…" the boy whispered shakily.

John followed Dean's gaze and felt instantly sick when he realized what was upsetting him. "You gotta let go of the knife first, Dean."

It took a few more seconds for the boy to relent, but eventually John felt his son's arm relax and he knew he had released the blade. He slowly released his own grasp and Dean quickly pulled his arms in, crossing them over his chest. He was looking anywhere but at his father, feeling ashamed for his moment of panic.

John felt his fatherly instincts kick in and for once, he pushed his Marine personality to the back burner. "Dean? Hey, son… You with me?"

Dean nodded, but his current staring contest with the foot of the bed said otherwise.

"Look at me, kiddo."

Unable to obey that order and keep his sanity, Dean's only other option was to start talking. The words blurted out of him faster than he could form coherent sentences.

"I'm fine, Dad. Just a dream. Don't even remember it. Not important. Did I wake you? Where'd Sammy and Bobby go? They alright?"

"Dean, stop. You're babblin', dude. I sent Sammy and Bobby next door to get some much needed sleep. Everyone's fine… Except you."

_That _grabbed Dean's attention and he made eye contact for the first time, though it was short lived. He was never good at lying to his father's face. He addressed the sheets pooled in his lap instead. "What are you talkin' about? I just said I'm good, Dad. Really. I was just caught off gua…"

"You're _not_ fine, buddy. Not by a long shot."

Dean was starting to feel cornered, not to mention betrayed by his little brother. "Why do you say that? Wait, did Sammy say somethin' to you?"

John raised an eyebrow, wonder what it was his boys were trying to hide from him. "About what?"

Dean immediately went on the defensive. "Nothin'. Never mind. Forget I said anythin'."

The weary father sighed. He was afraid this was going to happen. With all the walls his eldest had built over the years, he should have gone into construction. "Okay, clearly you're not in a talkin' mood, and that's fine. So just listen, alright?"

He received a tentative nod in return, then continued.

"What you've been through over the past couple of days would be enough to destroy any average person."

Dean started pulling back again, unwilling to rehash the events with his father.

"Dad, I really don't want to be discussin' this right now…"

"_But_ you're not an average person, ya hear me? You're the strongest kid I know, Dean. And I don't care what it takes or how long it takes, but we're gonna get you through this, understand?"

"Seriously, I'm already past all…"

"Dean, havin' horrific nightmares, scrapin' your skin raw, and I'm willin' to bet you had a bit of a breakdown in the shower earlier judgin' by how long you boys were in there…"

He waited for Dean to deny it, but all the boy could manage was a deep red blush. _Busted_.

John's gaze shifted to Dean's arms where the raw skin stood out in stark contrast to his pale body. "I could tell somethin' went wrong when you came back out, but I didn't want to push it. I was hopin' lettin' you get some more sleep would help, but that obviously backfired a bit."

"I, umm… God, I don't know what happened in there. It was just, everything sort of came down on me at once and…"

John shook his head. "You don't have to explain, kiddo. I get it. This ain't an easy gig by any stretch of the imagination. No one expects you to just bounce back after what you went through."

"I… I'm sorry, Dad," Dean stated softly, fresh tears coursing down his cheeks at the feeble admission.

"For what, dude?" John was completely nonplused.

"For failin' so miserably. I shouldn't have even been down by the water, let alone have walked right up to her so she could lay her mojo on me. I could have gotten all of you killed."

John felt tears stinging the backs of his own eyes now. Did Dean really feel he was to blame for all this? "No, buddy. None of this was your fault, got it? You want to blame someone, blame me. If I hadn't…" _struck you… _"let my anger get the best of me, you and I would have still been talkin' about Sammy's future. You never would have had a reason to leave the motel room if I had just listened. _I'm _the one that dropped the ball on this one, and I am so damn sorry, kiddo."

He reached out and cupped Dean's left cheek, ignoring his initial flinch, and gently rubbed his thumb over the deep bruise he had given his boy not so long ago. He'd do anything to take that back; to take _all _of it back and just start over again.

Dean could see the regret in his father's eyes. "It's okay, Dad."

Absolution where he didn't deserve it. How on Earth did he end up with a golden-hearted kid like Dean? _Must get that from Mary._

John moved his hand further back and clasped the back of Dean's neck, drawing him carefully against his chest once more. The boy tensed at first, not welcoming the rare show of affection, but then he broke down and made use of the shoulder to cry on.

He fisted his hands in the back of his father's shirt, desperately clinging to his source of stability- his hero.

"I don't know how to make it stop, Dad. I can't get her outta my head! Everythin' I do, everywhere I turn, she's always in the back of my head and… and…"

"Shh…" John gently rubbed his other hand up and down Dean's back, setting a comforting rhythm that the boy eventually used to control his breathing. "I've got you, Dean. You're gonna make it through this, I promise. And we'll all be there for you every step of the way. She's not gonna win."

He rocked Dean back and forth, easily falling into the old habits of how he used to calm his boys down after a bad dream, especially Dean. He had terrible night terrors for months after Mary's brutal murder.

Looking back, John knew Dean pulled himself out of that dark time for one reason and one reason only; his little brother. As emotionally scarred as the boy was after losing his mother, he had to be the big protector for Sammy. That's the way it always was, and this time wasn't going to be any different.

Dean would struggle with the fear, pain, flashbacks, and nightmares for a while until he decided enough was enough and forced himself to move past it. The boy was strong enough to take control of his emotions when necessary, and though no one would ever forget what he went through with the Rusalka, he would push the memory to the back of his mind, cement it behind one of those famous Dean Winchester walls, and he would move on as though it had never happened.

Sometimes, that was the only way to make it through.

TBC

Please review! One final chapter/epilogue to sum everything up and this fic will have reached its end. Thank you all for your generous reviews!!


	19. Heading Back to Normal

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Summary: Dean tries to break the news to his father that Sammy isn't interested in carrying on the family business. John handles it like an ex-Marine would, and Dean storms off to the shores to cool down after the heated debate. There, he is entranced by a water succubus. Will his father realize what happened before it's too late?

Tag to "After School Special." Dean is 17 and Sam is 13.

It was another three days of hellish nightmares; of waking in cold sweats, of biting on his tongue to hold in the cry of anguish that threatened to explode out of him each time…

Three days of being coddled by his little brother, three days of pitying glances and Bobby trying to get Dean to talk more about it, three days of John's strenuous training to get him back in shape and allow him to vent his feelings more productively…

Three days before Dean had had enough.

Dean woke that morning in the same predicament as its predecessors; soaked and trembling. But he was always good at adapting quickly, and this circumstance wasn't any different. He learned to control his waking state, making sure he didn't scream when he opened his eyes or flail till he fell off the bed.

He had no choice in the matter because Sam had taken to sleeping in his bed next to him, and it took all his restraint to transition from dreams to reality without waking his little brother up.

Bobby was snoring loudly in the other bed, and John was slumped uncomfortably in the chair a few feet away in case he had to wake Dean from one of the more violent nightmares.

Dean wasn't used to all this attention and he needed it to stop if he was ever going to move past this. He carefully extricated himself from underneath Sam's protective arm and walked silently into the bathroom. He could tell from the pale light coming in through the blinds that it was early morning.

He took a quick shower like he did every morning now to wake himself more effectively and wash away the sweat, tension, and fear. Glancing down at the quickly fading self-inflicted scratches on his arms and chest, he resisted the urge to reopen them again. He still felt unclean, but he was determined to take back control of his life.

When he headed back out into the bedroom, his father was beginning to stir. John rubbed the crick out of his neck before addressing his eldest son.

"How'd you sleep last night, Dean?"

"Like a baby," he lied with practiced ease. Dean glanced at the bed he had vacated twenty minutes ago to find that his brother had sprawled across the entire surface in his absence. "I think the training is really helpin'."

John frowned, knowing his son better than Dean seemed to realize. "Oh yeah? Then what are you doin' up so early?"

Dean shrugged. "Had to take a piss, couldn't go back to sleep." He quickly changed the subject. "Anyone goin' for a coffee run?"

"You keep mainlinin' that stuff, kiddo, and you're gonna give yourself a heart attack in ten years."

Dean smirked. "I suppose death by coffee would be better than some of the alternatives. Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"When are we gonna hit the road again? I mean, you're the one that always says evil doesn't take vacations."

"Maybe not, but _we _do when recuperation is in order."

"So we've been stuck here all this time cause of me?" Maybe some underlying guilt slipped out in that statement.

"_No_… Cause we _all_ needed a break. It's been intense these past few days, dude. And as you can tell by Bobby's obnoxious snorin'… We all needed a little time off."

At the sound of his name, Bobby woke with a snort. He glanced around blearily, wondering why he had been pulled back to consciousness. "Say wha'?"

John chuckled. "Mornin', Sunshine."

"Eh, shine _this_…" Bobby grumbled, giving John a rude gesture. "What the hell time is it?"

"Early," John replied, then at Bobby's death glare, he added, "But I'm gonna run out and get some coffee in a sec. Fair enough?"

"Well what are you still doin' here, then? The coffee ain't gonna deliver itself!"

"Alright, alright! I'm goin'. Calm down before you throw your back out or somethin'."

Dean snickered, earning a death glare of his own.

"Watch it, boy…" Bobby threatened, but the glint in his eyes told Dean he didn't really mean it. In fact, Bobby was thrilled to hear the boy laugh again. It felt like he hadn't heard that wonderful sound in years. Things seemed to finally be getting back to normal.

John switched out his shirt for a clean one, grabbed the car keys, and headed for the door. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you say we hit the road after breakfast? You up for leavin' this town in the dust?"

A broad grin spread across Dean's face. "Yes, sir!"

"Alright then. Get your brother up and pack the bags."

"On it."

And there went Bobby's good mood. He followed John into the parking lot. "Hold it right there, Winchester. Just what the hell do you think you're doin'?"

"Gettin' coffee, remember? You know, they make pills for short-term memory loss."

Bobby ignored him. "What were you thinkin', gettin' his hopes up like that? He ain't ready to get back into huntin' and you damn well know it!"

"He says he's ready and that's good enough for me."

"I refuse to believe you're really that thick, John. That boy could have every bone in his body broken and he'd _still_ say he was fine!"

"Give me _some _credit here, Bobby. I _know _he's not one hundred percent yet, but physically, he's healthy. Most of his wounds were superficial and have already healed."

"Yeah, but emotionally, he's a wreck. You know he hasn't slept through a single night since Sarina, right?"

John sighed. "I'm not oblivious, okay? I can see he's still havin' nightmares, and that's exactly why we've gotta hit the road. He can't move past this when we're still shacked up a few feet from where it happened. He needs the distance, and he needs the distraction, Bobby. We all do."

"Well _that_ I've gotta agree with. Just promise me you guys will take it slow. Start off with some easy hunts till he's back in the game."

"Of course. I know what my boys can and can't handle. But if it makes you feel any better, we could always use an extra set of eyes for backup."

"Just tell me when and where."

"Listen, why don't we all head to your place for a while where we can do some research and find the next hunt? That'll give Dean a bit more time to pull himself together and it'll get us away from this damn beach."

"I've got no objections."

"It's a plan then. We'll hit the road as soon as I get back."

"I'll make sure the boys are ready."

As John slid into the Impala, Bobby made his way back into the motel with a new sense of relief. Maybe John hadn't forgotten how to be a father after all.

While the men were bickering outside, Dean had gone over to the bed where his brother was spread eagled and nudged his shoulder. "Sammy? Wake up, dude."

Sam muttered something about needing to finish his homework first before his eyes cracked open. "Dean? Wha's wrong? You okay?"

"I'm fine, bro. In fact, we're headin' out of Dodge as soon as Dad gets back with the coffee, so get your ass up and ready."

"We're leavin'? Already?"

"What do you mean, _already_? We never stay in a place this long when the hunt is finished."

"Yeah, but… You sure you're up for it, Dean?"

"I just told you, man. I'm fine. Come on. Time's a wastin'. Pack your stuff."

Twenty minutes later and the boys were packed. Five minutes after that, and John returned with the coffee. They loaded the bags and were finally back on the road, headed for Bobby's.

A few hours into the trip and John pulled into a small diner for brunch. Dean could feel his companions' eyes on him and he knew this was a test; to see if he could fall back into the swing of things and deal with having so many strangers around.

His biggest trial came in the form of a buxom young brunette who waited on them. She clearly had eyes for Dean and wasn't shy about letting him know it. When she put her hand on his shoulder to ask if they needed refills, he tensed immediately.

John shot him a concerned look, asking if his son wanted him to tell her to back off, but with a subtle jerk of his head, Dean conveyed to his father that he could handle it himself. He gave the girl his award-winning smile and said, "No thank you, Sweetheart. If you leave your number though, I'll let you know if we need anythin' else."

She flushed and hurried off to tell the other giggling waitresses how adorable her customer was. When they all turned to stare at Dean, he sent them a wink and they went back to giggling again.

Unfortunately, it was all for show. He needed the others to believe he was back to his usual self and didn't need to be babied anymore, but he couldn't lie to himself that the violation of his personal space didn't turn his insides into ice.

Glancing around the diner, his insecurities grew and he felt as though everyone was staring at him. He was feeling claustrophobic, and he was sure he could see pity in all their faces like they knew what had happened to him. He had to get out of there.

Sam sensed his unease and pretended he had to go to the bathroom, just so that when he returned, he could sit on the outside of the booth and give his brother more protection, putting him out of reach of his new fan club.

Dean shoveled the last few bites on his plate down his throat even though he had lost his appetite halfway through. He knew if he stopped eating, the others would sense that something was wrong and that was the last thing he wanted to happen.

The next time the waitress appeared, John asked for the check and no one was surprised to see her name and number scrawled across the back of the paper and bracketed by little hearts. They paid the bill and left rather quickly.

Back in the Impala, Dean forced himself to calm down. The familiar smell of the leather and the comforting feeling of home helped to ease his nerves considerably.

He was going to get through this; one day at a time. He had to. There were people counting on him, and in the Winchester family, the rest of the world came first.

THE END

Maybe this will help explain Dean's apparent need to overcompensate with the ladies! Thank you all so much for your support and reviews, and a special thanks goes out to Jen and Janet who have more or less been working as my betas since this story started! You guys rock! Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you all enjoyed this story. Final reviews? Pretty please?


	20. Author's Note

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks again for all your amazing reviews and support! And for those of you interested in reading a sequel, I have good news! While I had intended on taking a break from Fanfiction, I was thwarted once again by a reader… lol. So thanks to Emerald-Water, I'm currently writing the first chapter for Bodies of Water.

Here is a quick summary/teaser:

Sequel to Sacrificial Son. It's been ten years since Sarina, but a new hunt involving the bodies of teenage boys lined up on a river's edge is bringing back horrible memories for Dean; just what he needs after losing his father.

Tag to Bloodlust. Dean is 27 and Sam is 23.

It will feature plenty of angst and whumpage, so please stay tuned and I'll start posting soon! Thanks again for sticking with me, and I look forward to hearing what you think about the sequel.


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